Albatross Addictions
by IKckedGanondorfsA
Summary: Left to emerge from the fantastical phenomenon of Duel Monsters that so surreptitiously swallowed them into the surreal, several unsuspecting characters find themselves submerged within a sea of surprising similarities.
1. Catastrophic Circumstances

Albatross Addictions:

Instructions Included. Assembly Required.

***disclaimer: clearly, I do not own the rights to any of the content or character of Yu-Gi-Oh***

Prologue:

_The evolution of time is inescapable. This inevitability requires one to posses, or acquire, the capacity to endure transition; A transformation which estranges individuals from misconceptions in order to adapt to the uncertainties of shifting realities. LIFE may provide a predeceasing time line of incidences and understanding from which to draw parallels, but the lesson itself is not vicarious: Instructions Included. Assembly Required—without action there can be no advance, reality loses all tangibility; thus immobilizing ambitions, and thoughtlessly rendering the vitality of humanity to a mass-manufactured massacre. Resultantly, through a series of endless subjection to the strange and suffering consequences of experience, both Seto Kaiba and Joey Wheeler search desperately for means of escape._

_Left to emerge from the fantastical phenomenon of Duel Monsters that so surreptitiously swallowed them into the surreal, several unsuspecting characters find themselves submerged within a sea of surprising similarities. With the actualizing lenses in place, the compelling complexities of their composures come into focus, cultivating the catalyst that will set such a controversial companionship into motion._

_**Part One: Creation.**_

**Chapter One: **_**Catastrophic Circumstances**_

"So, I guess this is goodbye," Joey looked, almost absently, at the faces of his friends.

"Joey, you don't have to do this!" Tea's pleas, though meaningful, fell flat against the floor beneath their feet.

"She's right," Yugi's timid tone trembled, "we can figure this out together," he insisted, despite the Pharaoh's inner reasoning that assured him the choice was Joey's, and Joey's alone to make.

Their words tugged at his heartstrings, and Tristan's silence only made him feel increasingly worse, but his mind was already made up-he was leaving. So, with a bouffant chest, Joey swallowed the possibility of having second thoughts, and strained his eyes to withstand the tears that came involuntarily as he embraced them each one last time.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, almost inaudibly, over the P.A system of the arrival and departure flights, forcing himself towards the security console.

Meanwhile, as the three friends were left unable to fathom the separation, Mokuba desperately tried to dissuade his brother Seto, who sat despondently in front of an empty suitcase. Although intentionally estranged from the other, Kaiba and Joey's decisions ironically aligned.

"I know this is hard," the brunette began, as he struggled to form the proper sentiment.

"Then why are you doing this!" His little brother's tears formed profusely, trying in vain to step between Seto's literal and emotional baggage.

Kaiba closed his eyes, gently pushing Mokuba aside. "This isn't debatable," the callousness in his voice was chillingly sincere.

As Kaiba struggled to sort through a myriad of miscellaneous possessions, Joey struggled to organize the thoughts that clouded and consumed him...

_It's over_ he said to himself, sighing and resting his forehead against the cold plastic of the plane's window, as the place he had always called home became a distant memory. _I can't stay, it's over,_ he reiterated, in order to remind himself just exactly why he decided all of this in the first place, _we all lost so much…._

Kaiba wore a face of frustration as the reflection of his shining accomplishments mirrored disappointment rather than pride, a feeling he seldom accepted willingly. _The tournaments, the titles, the trophies…what's the point?_ He asked himself, hanging his head, unable to mask the disgusted look that had fallen over his features.

"Seto?" Mokuba pulled on the edges of his jacket.

"It's nothing," his brother recomposed himself quickly, answering before Mokuba could even ask, "Just lock this place up after I'm gone.

"But…"

"I _said_ it's nothing," the tone in his voice was cold and forceful.

Mokuba winced as his head shrunk down into his shoulders, recognizing the sound in his brother's voice, he knew far too well not to pry any further. Instead, he trailed apprehensively behind the footsteps of uncertainty that echoed emptily through their estate, leaving his childlike features twisted as Seto's silhouette faded into the horizon. Just as quickly as Joey, his brother was gone.

Kaiba tapped his fingers rhythmically as his notions stirred inconsistently. _It's not right to leave him like that_, the paternal instinct in his breast beat protectively, _but it's not his burden to harbor, I wont allow it._

Catching his reflection in the glossy finish that isolated him from his driver, Seto tried to dissuade the emptiness that carved away at his chest. Desperately depleting, his face gave away everything and nothing at the same time. The blank expression he bore was both a disguise and a revelation. On one hand, the experiences he'd internalized had masked the void he acted so avidly to avoid; but on the other, that same ambiguity acted amply as a source of clarity.

It was undeniable. He felt entirely alone-and no matter how defiantly he denied it, there wasn't a single person who couldn't see past his defense.

Completely unaware of his surroundings, Joey hardly noticed the subtle shifts in scenery outside his window as the illumination extinguished into darkness. Instead he fumbled with the wires on his headphones; like everything else in his life, they had intertwined and tangled. The sound was familiar, so the lyrics came in perfectly clear, but the friction flowing through him seemed to distort the rhythm.

Still, Joey forced himself to listen, hoping to filter out his feelings through the music, but it was useless. His eardrums just refused it. Sighing, he lifted his hands up to the electric blue headphones and pulled them gently from his ears, sinking back into the silence.

Almost as soon as Joey's flight had departed from the _Domino City Airport_, Kaiba had arrived, feeling almost relieved as the outlines of the oncoming visual came into focus. His notions of escape manipulated the elations of his heart, convincing himself that this great vessel would swallow the sorrow forever forecasted in his skies. Thinking foolishly that the relief would be instantaneous.

"And when shall I expect your return?" His chauffeur questioned, carrying a single suitcase to the curbside check-in, and preparing his palm pilot, but Seto's response left the driver looking both concerned and confused.

"I'm not coming back."

Digging through his backpack for some other means of passing the time, Joey's fingertips brushed against a cool surface at the very bottom. His eyes widened as he traced the rounded edges, he had almost forgotten. His wrist retracted hesitantly, as he held three _Duel Monster_ cards in his lap, pouring his soul back into the heart of the cards.

He almost laughed in spite of himself, _Y'know I always understood that whole spiel, but I really never thought it would literally come down to this. I know it sounds terribly cliché, but these three cards, well, each of them are my only reminders of who I used to be, these three cards are all I have left._

He fanned them out and held them closer, out of all the cards he had dedicated years of his life collecting in order to build a stronger, more able deck, he had discarded all but three.

The first was his beloved and infamous _Red Eyes Black Dragon, _it had aided him so valiantly in his times of need that it merged itself undeniably into Joey's identity, it was a part of him. Secondly, always complimenting his strategies was the_ Time Wizard _Yugi had given him eons ago_. "Here Joey, add this to your deck," _he could almost hear his best friends voice as if he was standing right there in front of him again. However, as his eyes refocused on the third, a deeper place within his heart that had long since hollowed began to pulsate. Wrinkling his nose, and daring out to reach out and caress its intricate structure, the veins in his heart tightened. His third and final card was nothing other than Mai's _Harpy Lady_.

Curling all five fingers tightly into a fist, Joey had to restrain himself from punching the seat reclined in front of him; images of Valon and the Orichalcos cascaded around the card, subliminally mocking his pain. However plaguing, the idea of his companions excited the stillness of his heart, and his eyes darted back and forth frantically inspecting every last inch of each card so that he wouldn't miss anything, so he didn't ever have to come back and relive such anguish.

Yet it was his thorough reconstruction that pained him the most, and the cards made his losses even more tangible than the images echoing around the emptiness.

Joey's tear-ducts couldn't even conjure a single tear, every valve in his body stopped, his blood thinned, his breath choked, and in every sense of the word his heart broke into a million pieces, making a mosaic of misery beneath his feet. For a final moment, the ruby specs of his eyes that swirled in and out of shades of jade and chocolate shut, revealing blank screens on the backs of his eyelids.

With great skill, and an even greater memory Joey began to piece everything back together across the mental canvas he'd created.

_I remember the first few years fondly, back when everything was so simple. We were just a couple of friends, a couple of friends with ambition and a deck of cards. We'd never played a real match, never had any real fans; we just did it for fun, just to pass the time. We based every move on what we felt, and we practiced and played when we wanted to-never had anyone breathing down our necks about absolutely __**everything**__. __No one to tell us that our cards weren't up to par, or that our strategies were shit; nobody to criticize our skills, and question our capabilities. __It was just the four of us, doing **what** we loved best, with **who** we loved best; but before we knew it, we had fought our way through Duelist Kingdom, victoriously _prevailed_ from Battle City, and then lost our selves, literally and figuratively, to the Orichalcos...__It was only after __**those **__duels that things got complicated. __Ambition and determination blinded us, and we were so eager to sign the dotted line—a__fter that, nothing was ever the same…_

***Well to everyone, or anyone, who happens to read this, I would like to start off my saying that this is the first and only 'fanfiction' that I have ever written-well **_**attempted**_** is more accurate hah. In short, this is an ongoing Christmas present to my younger sister, **_**Yaoifan101, **_**who is well versed in the art of fanfiction. With the previous being said, I apologize for my tendency to be more wax poetic, my forte tends to cater towards analytical, interpretive essays (primarily for academic purposes), as well as my own works of fiction, and poetry.**

**Baha, sooo this is very new for me! I've basically been drinking an unnecessary amount of red-bull and non-stop typing whatever happened to pop into my head! Feedback would be highly appreciated, whether you hate it or enjoy it, because I don't want to disappoint her!**

**ps: the start of everything i write is somewhat uneventful and more so a descriptive introduction, yet the point of which may become somewhat ambiguous, or vague as it cycles for emphasis.***


	2. The Symphony of the Air Changes

**Chapter Two: _The Symphony of the Air Changes_**

Colliding with the concrete, the wheels of the plane wavered up and down unsteadily before grounding. As Joey was forced to touch down into reality, the memory-reel slowed down, and the projection of his thoughts flickered away. _Milwaukee, _he sighed and opened his eyes to greet the foreign territory that he'd traded up familiarity so uncertainly for.

The motions of Joey's feet pushing back the ground contrasted against Kaiba's immobilized posture, planted firmly in his first class seat, neither of them realizing that their fate was only separated by a matter of miles. As the once troubled youth took in the unfamiliar atmosphere with meandering meanings that twisted his stomach into knots, the established CEO's composure became increasingly calm, singularly focusing on his destination. Despite the fact both boys had invested their sense of relief within the idealistic prospect of escape, for Joey Wheeler the decision took everything, and for Seto Kaiba, the choice was effortless. Paradoxically intertwined, their ensuing journey would soon evoke endless trial and tribulation, only to reveal the reality that both had surrendered themselves to an indistinguishable providence.

The scenic still frames of Joey's expectations had suddenly been set into motion, his eyes latched onto the images passing by the window of the taxi in a colorful blur, everything became a series of lines and shapes as symmetries meshed in and out of focus. He was completely unable to secure any notion of the concrete; even the precise planning and carefully calculated relocation was merely an abstraction. Although he'd visited the country many times before in his past pursuits, it was never anything he had to get used to it, he had only been there by chance, welcomed as a visitor, but now he was forced to assimilate himself as he made his debut as a full fledged American citizen. His ambition steadily decreased, even more than it already had, as the variation between skyscrapers and suburbia was so proportionally unsound, one minute he was surrounded by highways and vast, lush greenery, the next he was suddenly submerged into a sea of massive buildings, which the taxi driver navigated in and out of with ease. Joey's eyes refocused in fascination of every detail, taking note of how just has easily as he had entered the city, he emerged onto a winding road that traced the lake front, leading the car into a series of residential, grid-like street patterns. There were virtually no parallels Joey was able to draw between Milwaukee and Domino City, even basic buildings structures were drastic in differentiation, the street signs and markings indiscernible in comparison, and the human to vehicle ratio completely thrown off balance.

"That will be _thirty-dollars _and _fifty-three cents_," the cab driver repeated a third time as he cleared his throat more rudely than the second.

Joey's cheeks flooded with embarrassment. _We're already here you moron_, he scolded himself, pulling out the correct currency. "Sorry about that," he wanted so badly to murmur, but had nervously over-emphasized his English, feeling more misplaced than ever.

"_Seto K..Kay…Kayb.." _The rotund, rosy colored immigration clerk squinted through his spectacles.

Tapping his foot impatiently, biting his tongue from a verbal out-lashing of epic proportion, Seto reduced his reaction towards such ignorant inability, with extreme difficulty, down to a condescending correction, "Kaiba."

Intimidated by Kaiba's confidently dictating stance and flawlessly forceful English, the clerk limited eye contact for the rest of the procedure, "Welcome to Milwaukee," he spoke straight into the passport as he returned it.

Feeding off his signature air of superiority, sharp cobalt vaults became electrically charged, _"Look at me when you talk you unintelligent waste of air," _were the words swimming inside Seto's mouth, but he chose to engage in another directly disdainful discourse.

After Kaiba had all his affairs in order, he began to feel far from relieved, and in place of it surfaced the feeling his pride had been degraded, and his fixed facial expressions revealed absolute disgust towards how politely he forcibly conducted himself. In Seto's eyes such compliance with those beneath him potentiated a visual of weakness that began to take a heavy toll on his empowering self-confidence the second he landed. Emitting a primitive, Darwinian dominance had always been instinctual to Kaiba, it was a self-governing law, and going against it was like rewiring his entire outlook. Unable to hide behind the wall he had spent his entire creating, Seto lost that sense of security, rendering himself absolutely defenseless to these inconceivable emotions. For the first time in a long time, Seto Kaiba would have to struggle to survive.

The one bedroom apartment seemed to settle Joey's nerves; the silence wrapped itself securely around his subconscious, smothering the sound of empty bottles shattering against walls and windowsills that he's grown oh so familiar to at home. Momentarily, the unfamiliar atmosphere transposed, yet thoughts of his father were insuppressible. The alcoholic fits, all those drunken disasters, but even then it was that unbearable sense of contempt that Mr. Wheeler had always shown him. It didn't matter to Joey anymore that he might not belong here, because he never truly belonged anywhere. His father never made even the slightest attempt to deny it and the verbal out lashings freely admitted how unwanted his son had always been, Joey clenched his eyes tightly, one day stood out in particular as several surfacing memories interposed.

"_I'm late," Mai blurted quickly._

"_What?" he asked confused._

_She inhaled, "My period. I'm late."_

"_Okay, so?"_

"_Joey," Mai said again slowly, "I'm **late**."_

_There was a sudden silence, "Fuck."_

As simple as the conversation had been, it was one that Joey could never forget. He hadn't even noticed how tightly he had begun to clutch the _Harpy Lady_ card in his hand. As the memory merged into the next though, he released his grip on the card, and it floated to the ground with an almost feather like motion.

_Subdued in another substance invoked outrage, Mr. Wheeler's stance swayed from side to side, provoking his son as usual, "I don't care if that slut is pregnant or not," the words slipped and slurred, "You're not going anywhere. With all the fucking shit you've pulled with me, you should be grateful, god damn it," nothing that fled his lips was making sense, but it didn't take away from how badly it hurt. "I mean, you really think after all your screwing and now **this** bullshit mess you've made that I'll ever let you out of here?"_

_He could hear the concerned whimpering of Serenity trying to conceal herself crying in the next room, it was bad enough that **this** is what she had to see when she came home. Joey was emboldened as he spat back at him furiously, "Like father like son. I'm not the only one who slept around."_

_Fiery, scarlet hues deepened Mr. Wheeler's already drunkenly flushed face as he slammed a Jack Daniels bottle against the wall, "I will not let you fuck someone else's life up exactly like you fucked mine."_

"_Key word **fucked**," Joey screamed, "Only you're the one who did that in this case, you should have killed me when you still had the chance."_

"_Believe me," there was a cold cackling in the way his father yelled back, "I **tried**."_

"_Then let me **GO**!" Joey was hysterical._

That same cold, cruel sensation of neglect carved away in Joey's eyes, followed by forming rings of water; he didn't have anyone to get away from this time, and he had no idea where he was going, but Joey ran like hell.

Without his staff to provide him with services, and without the luxury of his own iridescent, flawless deep blue Bentley, Kaiba took to the idea of having to walk as an insult. _What kind of fucking plan was this in the first place_, he gritted his teeth, _like giving up my company, my millions, my goddamn mansion just to live like…like, like fucking __**Wheeler**__ was supposed to make __**me**__ feel BETTER? _Mentally, even the taste of Joey's name inside Kaiba's mouth repulsed him, and realizing he just inherited the lifestyle of his adversary made his stomach spoil. _Jesus, I think I might be sick, living like that insolent, idiotic, incapable, blabbering, blonde bastard, was worse than living __**with**__ him. Besides, that is no lifestyle for someone of __**my**__ stature; _Seto regained a sinister smirk as he allowed the running joke of Joey Wheeler to fill his veins veraciously with vigor. Yet, despite his once again hardened exterior, re-inhabiting his old self made each passing street corner even more tantalizing, _this is humiliating, this simpleton shit, as if someone secured me on a fucking leash, walking down the street, just like that mutt._

_***yeahh, so this second chapter is kinda short and not the greatest. I spent a 24 hour car ride to FL attempting to write it, but kept getting headaches hah and mad, so it ends sort randomly (i might add on a tad more to it when i post chp. 3). tehe, also, don't be thrown off by the Mai references, I veryyy much so intent on sticking to my puppyshipping promises!***_


	3. The Ties that Bind Us

**Chapter Three: _The Ties That Bind Us._**

With a headache of mixed emotions, and his fingers clenched into fists, Joey left the room hastily, feeling more perplexed and more aggravated than before; but he couldn't stay there another minute. Fleeing down the stairs at speeds that made the floorboards ache and cry, it was a wonder he even managed to breathe. Every inch of the ground was pushed down and back by the constant rhythm of his feet; a rhythm that didn't break until he was left gasping for air, his feet grounded into the pavement, unable to persist.

His chest heaved in and out against the wind of the lakefront ripping through his hair. Hunching over and placing his palms against his knees for support, Joey finally looked up to meet the atmosphere around him. In the horizon lay an infinite body of water, swallowing the skyline calmly as the sun scintillated off it softly. Joey stared longingly; the tangibility of how vastly I separated him was incredible. A sudden panic pulsated through him at an alarming rate, yet against the rush of actuality around him, his features stood in a standstill. Instantaneously, he'd calmly collected his composure on top of the concrete, pouring his eyes into the picturesque; the lake was so perfect that Joey could have sworn it was painted.

The small patch of grass in front of his feet, with the tagged up, turquoise colored bench, became permanently fixed in his peripherals. It became a place where he felt the relief of a personal sanctuary potentiating, alleviating his troubling symptoms. His perceptions reconstructed as the fast pace pounding of his heart became time times more tolerable. Here, the anxiety was willingly welcomed in opposition to the excruciating twisting that Joey felt inside when left standing in the middle of his memories.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

Juxtaposing itself against Seto, the lake reflected the blinding disdain that wavered back and forth in Kaiba's crystallized, cobalt eyes. Sauntering along the exact same lakefront that eased Joey's suffering, the over privileged orphan felt the waves crash against his conscience, shattering Seto's bluffing insincerity, wearing away, and revealing the true vastness of his vulnerabilities. Although, unable to properly express himself, even _to_ himself, Seto's joints locked, and the emotional indecision rendered him immobile. The mysteriously Jurassic jungle of this strange city, slaughtered any sound sense of security. Prehistoric methods of survival distorted the idea of concrete, coming of age facts. Truths strangled Seto's subconscious, and the infinitely unknown water stretched farther than he could calculate. He felt trapped, and the hypnotizing hold slowly summoned him backward in time, Milwaukee began to metaphase, mirroring his memories of Duelist Kingdom. As hard as he hesitated, this was inescapable. Alone in this island-like isolation, Mokuba's eager and perceptually incapable face shot through him, and Kaiba's fingers crept involuntarily towards the locket that he wore religiously.

"_Why are you doing this!" _

The sound of his little brother was ear shattering, and Kaiba's footsteps frantically searched for what his heart already knew he couldn't find. For the first time, notions of his selfishness surfaced. _Did I really just __**leave**__ him like that? Did I just…just get up and walk away __**that**__ easily? Like my promises meant __**nothing**__? _Tears that his eyes refused to shed mocked Kaiba resentfully, and he spent the entire night staring into the face of the silent screams of his subconscious, he shifted restlessly.

The promise of his paternal protectiveness over his younger brother disintegrated upon admitting the consequence of his action. After a lifetime of dedication, and unchallenged loyalty, Seto has thoughtlessly shot down the innocent aura of optimism that guided him, so faithfully, through his darkest hours. Blindly trying to navigate, Kaiba's instinctual sense of direction betrayed him, unable to re-trace his way back to the externally compelling forces of uncertainty that once excited him, the situation symbolically swallowed him into senseless sea of shifting realities. Trying desperately to tether the ties he had forcibly severed, the only person in his life that ever mattered became a ghost; leaving the locket hanging heavily, like an albatross, around his neck.

"_You're not from around here, are you?"_

_Joey laughed hesitantly, his vacant eyes temporarily regaining their once transfixing vibrancy, "It's that obvious, huh?"_

_A gentle smile played across the delicate lips of the girl who had mysteriously appeared at his side. "Oh, no, of course not," she rolled her lilac, gray eyes sarcastically, a pair Joey painfully recognized. _

_Flickering back and forth between vacant and aware, the angle in Joey's smile turned down. Motionless lips found themselves struggling to return the girls playful energy. He realized how stupid he probably must've looked to her, but he could only find enough energy to revert his gaze, despondently, in the other direction._

"_Oh," the playful tone in her smile softened sensitively, piecing together Joey's declining expressions and detached body language, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize this was a bad time."_

_He felt badly about his off-standish reaction though, because she hadn't offended him in the slightest; and her ability to perceive his mood so naturally, had actually caught him off guard, causing his eyes to widen in surprise, "No, it's okay. It's nothing."_

_ "Well it's obviously something," she addressed him so openly and so genuinely for someone who she didn't even know._

_ Another attribute drew his thoughts backward to the person he'd tried his hardest to forget, yet even still, the girls persistence, similarly, provoked his response and held his attention. "It's really nothing," Joey shrugged, as the excuse rolled off his tongue with little conviction, "I was uhm, just…y'know, sightseeing. Trying to acquaint myself with the place, that's all."_

_ "Oh, come on, don't even try to tell me that you've been standing here for the last ten minutes staring because you found the view of Lake Michigan **soo** breathtaking."_

_ Joey didn't know what to stay, but took unexpected comfort in the strangers confident composure, a quality that he himself was once known to emit._

_ "Y'know?" she sighed, "Your English is pretty good, but your lying is for shit." _

Joey's body seemed to float back to his new apartment on autopilot, knowing not how to process exactly how he felt about the unusual circumstances of this new acquaintance. _Although_, he stopped to think, _I guess she did say were friends._ Despite the actuality that the necessity of friendship had seemingly lost all meaning to Joey, he certainly wasn't going to deny the opportunity now.

Double checking first that the door was locked, Joey picked the three, sanctified Duel Monster cards up, and carried them back over towards his air mattress, collecting a sense of courage with every step. Then, sitting cross-legged on top of the disorderly bed set, he cautiously placed them face up. Even though they were all physically visible, Joey couldn't physically bring himself to look at them; instead, he sat staring absently at the cracked creases of the mental photograph of the friends he kept so close to him, images that, until now, had worn away from frequent familiarity. It was almost chilling how easily he'd forgotten their faces, and even more plaguing how readily he turned his back to them.

Closing his eyes, Joey fell back against his pillow and drifted into another dimension of thought, but both his mind and his body swore they were still awake, because everything seemed so tangible—so real. An icy whisper rolled around the room, sweeping under the bed and through the shades. The temperature on the thermostat dropped significantly, and even Joey's blood was growing slightly colder as the unfamiliar shifts in surroundings continued to encase him.

A mysterious breeze, an actual breeze, that shook the cheap crystals on his ceiling light, was making its way down to the bed. The intricate images that personalized the playing cards seemed to jump to life, distorting and fluttering back and forth in the air, until they stopped suddenly and surely on the blank spaces hidden throughout the cores of their caricatures. Golden glowing auras began to curl and curve around like cursive, and illuminating features began to appear, formulating a familiar face. It was as if she'd always been there. A soft breathe nipped at his ear, and a voice began to softly speak to him, imitating Mai flawlessly, as if she was still apart of him; but even in delusion, Joey had accepted that the last time they were every together, they stood against one another. Despite the division, his heart continued to break, yet still his hungry ears continued to listen to the sensation of her expression.

Affectionately, a soft giggle, tickled his eardrums, and the whistling wind gave the illusion she was laughing, but Joey could only hear the shrieking pain and desperation that the Orichalcos had calloused into her. The image began to melt away as she lost luminosity, her voice turning into static as Joey began to drift in and out of consciousness.

As a shrill alarm reverberated his dreams back into reality, Joey's entire body lurched violently forward, arms reaching out, trying to grab hold of something that wasn't there, "Mai!" he shouted repeatedly. Yelling her name at the top of his lungs, over and over again—but the voice that had lulled him into such a delusionary state had disappeared, and the three cards beneath his palm were lifeless.

Encased in a cold sweat, his trembling fingers fumbled to flick the wheel on the lighter until a red glow appeared and singed the tip of the cigarette Joey had extended forward. Grasping the fowl creation between his lips, he inhaled uneasily, contrastingly, exhaling smoke smoothly into a cloud that, unlike his thoughts, disappeared.

He looked around uncomfortably, lighting another cigarette, trying, in vain, to smother his overactive imagination that had taken over where his dreams left off, his eyes still shifting and refocusing uncertainly on areas around him.

Yet, the emptiness was more disappointing, and more terrifying, than anything else he'd imagined. There was no longer anyone here for him to project his desperation of belonging onto, in hopes of counteracting their own, nor was their anyone left to help him cope with his own; this time, Joey had to rely solely on himself, a strategy that in the past, had always failed him. There was a sudden convulsion deep within the hollowed core of the lifestyle he'd long since revisited, and the nerves alone were enough to make him vomit.

_6:00 AM_ flashed across the screen, on the nightstand, in bright red, causing Kaiba, in a state of exhaustion, to come to terms with the fact that sleep was unattainable. Groggily, all six foot, three inches of his lanky, yet impressively muscular frame, sat upright, rubbing swollen eyes with his fists. After routinely washing up and gathering his things, tired legs carried his body towards the staircase, when he was struck with a baffling and almost surreal realization.

_Mokuba!_ He suddenly remembered his brother with urgency and guilt. Reaching inside his jacket, he felt around until his fingertips creased a small, platinum, encased locket. Taking the memento from the safety spot against his breast, Kaiba just stared down in amazement. _How could I have done this to you?_

Seto's sentimental state was insensitively broken though, by another tenant coming from the opposite direction, "Hey buddy, why don't you move out of the way, there's a whole lobby downstairs for you to stand in."

Instantly, eye contact with the keepsake was broken, zeroing in on the cocky, twenty-something year old standing below, and this time, Seto burst into a fit of rage, unable, and unwilling, to turn the other cheek, "How **dare** you," his voice boomed, echoing through the narrow stairwell, "Do you _know_ who you're talking to, you ignorant piece of shit!"

What was more shocking to Kaiba than the stranger's insubordination though, was the blank expression accompanying his response, "No?"

No progress, and half a pack later, Joey crumpled up the _Classifieds_, and threw it to the floor groaning in frustration. _Seriously, what am I supposed to say qualifies me as a potential employee? 'Oh, hello sir! I think you'll find my experience with card games to be a promising attribute! …What's that? Never heard of Duel Monsters? How odd…Education? Oh, no! Duelists don't have time for school! We're too busy dabbling in the dark powers of Ancient Egypt! Yes, I'm very worldly; in fact, my best-friend just happens to wear a dead, reincarnated pharaoh around his neck that occasionally inhabits his body. __**Surely**__ you can relate?'_

Submerged into the real world, the circumstances Joey once discerned as a normalcy, shattered into a series of irregularities. Everything he'd accomplished was transient, but it had taken up so much of his life that he never dreamed of things like school to be such a decisive factor. Suddenly his whole life became a joke. Nothing about him, or what he'd done, meant anything, his title, as an established Duelist, didn't translate into anything substantial. Sinking even more deeply into himself, Joey felt ashamed, wishing so desperately to disappear.

Even standing in his own apartment, he didn't feel like it was his; instead, someone else just let him stay there out of pity, as an act of charity towards someone so pathetic, like an animal that was so domesticated, it lost all instinct, becoming defenseless and dependent. _He's right…he's __**always**__ been right, _Joey's own tears became a source of weakness that belittled him further as he choked on them, _All this time and I never saw it, but how could I not? How could I expect any sound person to take me seriously? It's exactly like Kaiba always said…"_ The name rang mercilessly in Joey's ears, it burned, and echoed, and crawled everywhere underneath his skin.

***lol well, I guess I don't have too much new to say about this chapter, because it's pretty much exactly what I've said before. I'm pretty into developing stories somewhat realistically, so they unfold gradually. Also, I've never written from the alternating perspective of two characters like this where the majority is more so a narration. Regardless, I hope you enjoy the chp. and thanks for the reviews :) for you patience i'll give you somewhat of a spoiler, that being, these two angsty young men are going to have quiet the run in next chapter ;)***


	4. Polar Magnetism

***sorry this took so long—that is if anyone is still reading! but I AM in college lol. Regardless, thank you for the reviews that _have_ been posted. Baha I've been a little too caught up with my sister's story—as well as the future happenings and prewritten scenes of my own to figure out how to continue it. As a result-here's thirty one pages. Hah**

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

**Chapter Four: **_**Polar Magnetism**__._

As Kaiba held the slick, black cellular device between his fingers tightly, he found himself unable to spend another second alone in the apartment. He was disgusted with himself.

"_Seto…?" The faint traces of Mokuba's voice shook timidly in question when the other side of the line fell still._

"_I'm here." Is all that Kaiba managed_

"_Why haven't you called?" Mokuba whispered, the sensation of teardrops trickling in his voice, but he tried his very best to be strong. "I've been really worried about you, you know that?"_

"_I'm sorry." The response sounded almost neglectful, but it was really the crackling tone in his younger brothers voice that had tightened like a leash around Seto's neck, leaving him unable to speak…_

Denying the room around him to further constrain him, Kaiba descended down the staircase gracefully. He wasn't sure where the hell he was going to go, all he knew was that he couldn't stay there any longer. So he set forth along the Lake Front, opposite of the direction he'd taken before, his thoughts and emotions replicating the tides and currents that churned the waters so restlessly.

"Uhm, hi," Joey's voice filled the line awkwardly as he squinted at the name above the number in his hand, "Sam?"

"What's up Japan?"

He couldn't help but crack a smile, "Nothing really, just wondering if that offer was still on the table?"

"Of course," her voice continued to smile, "When are you free?"

"Well, hold on while I check my schedule," he exaggerated, "I might be able to pencil you in."

"Practicing our sarcasm are we Joseph?"

"Shut up," he smiled, twisting the phone cord around his index finger.

Kaiba continued down the winding pathway of the lakefront until he saw the increasing visual of civilization growing nearer, and nearer. The isolating effect of the people he soon surrounded himself with began to reverse the plaguing exposure he had felt from the openness of the water.

An hour or so later, the fiery red head stood wide eyed in Joey's living room, "_Wow_, I love what you've done with the place," she stared into the empty apartment.

"Yeah, yeah," he waved his hand.

"Did you just forget to pack the rest of your stuff?" She circled the room, taking note of the air mattress and suitcase set.

"No," he twiddled his fingers, feeling slightly embarrassed, "This is basically all I have."

She looked back at him and sighed, "You're hopeless, now come on. My car is double parked."

Turning his head back to the window, just for a second, the tail end of a familiar white, studded sheathing caught Joey's eyes. And for a split second he could have sworn he'd just seen Seto Kaiba walking down the street. Eagerly, he jerked his head around, but the silhouette was fading fast, and as hard as those brown eyes strained against the glaring sunlight, the vision was already obscured. _There's just __**no way**__, _Joey repositioned himself forward. _It's impossible. _

The unlikelihood, even the idea conjured a simultaneous swarm of sensations, deep with in his core. The sounds around him became inaudible, and his visions danced through a delusion—but as hard as Joey fought, the more easily it subdued him. It was a curiosity that both attracted and repelled him: Seto Kaiba, the one man Joey had never understood, but who now, even at the slightest hint, had become the only thing that Joey knew in this strange place.

The distracting thoughts that encircled Joey's mind had left him clueless to when, or how he had wound up stationary between the two thick, illuminating yellow lines of a parking space.

"Bed, Bath, and Beyond…?" Joey scratched his head.

"Well, you said you needed a job," she clicked the remote control keychain to lock up the car, "And the lack of personality adorning your apartment is pathetic."

"It's uh, a man cave," he glanced to the side just to avoid the stupidity of what he'd said.

"A cave maybe," she pulled at the edge of his jacket lightheartedly, "But we're going to have to bring you up to date if you wanna be able to put the man back into it."

"So, again, Bed, Bath, and Beyond…?"

As Kaiba casually sauntered through the streets, his face held a repulsed expression that caused the people around him to split apart as he approached. However, it was this air of dominance that he sought to employ. _That's right, keep a move on. _He smiled arrogantly; _at least these American's aren't ignorant enough to realize when someone important comes around. _As the myriad of cheaply decorated store windows continued do nothing but disgust the brunette with their cheap advertisement attempts, a distinguished storefront managed to catch his eye.

The prominent golden letters arched over evenly, and ran delicately down the old fashion doorway. **Peabody's**. Kaiba stopped and assessed the _Century _font that produced the name, and the golden lettering brought him to conclude the high class prominence of the piano store. Being such, he entered it willingly, drawing no strange glances from the cliental inside—all of which were tastefully adorned in precious fabrics and flamboyantly expensive prints. _Now this is a little more my speed_, he smiled in satisfaction, making his way over to the section of elegant, grand pianos in the back. One in particular had effortlessly caught his eye.

The model sat centered, erected on a small platform stage against the wall. As a few other clients glanced interestedly at his movements, it's clearly superior position only stroked Kaiba's ego as he climbed up to the seat. _It's incredible_, he breathed in and out to himself in admiration, as if the Blue Eyes itself had just taken its shape. The piano was that of a distinguished design—the woodwork was impeccable and intricate. Kaiba's captivatingly compelled auras ravished its white, high gloss finish, and the gleaming golden blue trim. _Wonder if it plays half as well as it presents?_ He pondered, lifting up the lid to reveal its ivory keys.

Instinctively pressing down the appropriate keys and petals, he began a prelude to his past. Although this acquired taste was somewhat of a hidden talent, and something that the boy seldom revealed back home; in his youth, it was a practice, like many others, that Kaiba perfected. The thing that had stood out most, however, was not that he had mastered it so flawlessly, but the fact that unlike most other things in this world, he had genuinely enjoyed it. So much so, that to Seto, his playing had become like a safe haven, something the CEO could lose himself to when he needed to escape his troubles. Ironically towards his bleak, demeaning demeanor, the unrivaled rapture of his delicate melodies was breathtaking.

With no hesitation, gentle sounds filled the rooms, capturing everyone's attention. It was a sentimental sort of piece that he played, keeping his eyes closed as he envisioned the conversation with his Mokuba, and played out the apology. He had composed it years before as a ballad for his brother, exposing the delicate emotions that he held in Seto's heart; emotions that he had soon lost sight of how to express.

…"_Why did you leave?" Mokuba's voice cracked in confusion, holding in the crocodile tears, continuing to be strong for his brother._

_The softness defied Kaiba's confidence and his statement, although flat, began to falter, "I already told you Mokuba, this isn't debatable."_

_The younger boy, although distraught, still dug into his brother with disdain at the opening Seto had left him—and on one hand, Kaiba had almost done it on purpose to punish himself. "Yes, you've made that very clear, but that's not an answer. I said **why**. Tell me **why** you left me."_

"_Because I had to..."_

"Ahem," the snobbish sound interrupted the song, breaking Kaiba's thoughts. "Excuse me young sir, but I'll have to ask you not to play around on the merchandise."

Frozen with infuriation, the precious memory dwindled. The motions of the boy's fingers pulled away from the keyboard, and allowed his eyes to fall intimidating on the salesman in a fiery shade of blue. "Well how do you expect me to purchase something with out playing it first? It could be defective."

"Purchase?" There was a stifled laugh as the salesperson looked beyond the piercing gaze amusedly. Upon Kaiba's entry, the man had taken notice of his distinguished dress, deciding it to be far from inexpensive, but reacted inconsiderately towards his young age.

"Do you not understand English? That _is_ your language, is it not?"

"Why, I never!" The man exclaimed dramatically.

A satisfied and sadistic smile crept onto Seto's lips, "That's right—you _never_. Now, if you'll excuse me. You're interrupting."

Clearly irritated, the employee shut the cover over the glossy keys abruptly, barely missing the tips of Seto's finger as it clamped shut. "Young man, maybe you didn't understand me—this piano costs twenty-two _thousand_ dollars."

"And what is your point?"

"My point!" The man breathed bewildered and aggressively, "—is that you wont have the money to cover any damage you may cause."

_You incompetent moron, piano's are __**made**__ for playing, _he thought rationally. And so this time Kaiba let out a conceited laugh, "Listen, that does not even _begin_ to even _compare_ to the figures of my salary."

"_Your_ salary?"

A slick eyebrow rose superciliously above his blue eyes, which took offensively to the man's disbelieving and belittling stance. "You're ignorance insults me!" Kaiba said eloquently, yet with great impertinence. "Yes, _my_ salary—do you think I would say otherwise if it weren't? Now unless you intend on stating a _relevant_ point, then I highly suggest _you_ and your tacky, two hundred dollar suit get out of my sight _immediately_."

"YOU'RE NOT BUYING THIS PIANO!"

"I'll by this GODDAMN store, DO YOU HEAR ME?" Seto boomed.

The man shriveled down slightly, especially as the younger boy's height cast a condescending shadow over his own, but went completely limp as a third voice approached.

"Come now Jenkins," A gentleman, who later introduced himself as the store's owner, placed a hand over his shoulder, "There is no need to insult our customers like that, now go tend to the register."

The irate worker glared once more at Seto, gritting his teeth, and stomping off out of view; Kaiba smirked satisfactorily at his victory, then turned back to Mr. Peabody, who engaged him charismatically, "So, how long have you been taking lessons?"

"…lessons…?" Kaiba answered obliviously to the word. "I've never taken one."

"You mean…you taught yourself?"

"Well, yes. When I was six," Seto recalled slowly, taken back by the other man's personable nature. "No one ever touched the one we had back home, so I was always quiet curious."

"Well," his face formed a wrinkled smile, "I must admit that I'm rather impressed. Your playing is really rather beautiful, and your style is very unique in its complexity," the owner complimented.

"Uhm, thanks I guess," Kaiba muttered softly, he was unsure of how to respond appropriately to such pleasantries.

"And you have exceptionally good taste too," the owner stepped up, placing an aged hand delicately on the top of the instrument, "Steinway is one of my favorites. However," he continued apologetically, "I'm afraid another client has already made me a rather generous offer."

"So, you're saying…?"

He let out a deep, almost parental sort of laugh. "Well my boy—what I'm saying is that I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there is no chance that I'm going to be able to sell this piano to you. Especially not at its asking price, my client made sure to go well and above to ensure it would still be here upon his return."

Kaiba merely shrugged unalarmed, "I'll triple his offer."

"But that's…"

"Sixty-six thousand dollars?" Kaiba asked entertained, quickly completely the calculation.

Mr. Peabody's fingers twiddled in temptation as he thought the sum over in his head, eyes still bulging out at the price Seto had left in the air. "Still…I'm not sure how I'll explain to this to the buyer…"

"Quiet frankly," Seto started honestly, "I don't really care what you tell him. However, as a business man of my stature—I know when to make a good deal when I see one—I'd expect you to do the same."

"So, triple you say?" The old man began rubbing his chin profitably in thought now, "And you'll be able to pay this up front?"

Kaiba smiled, "I'll pay you in _cash_ if you want me to."

Needless to say, Kaiba had successfully secured the deal—however, that was no surprising triumph for him. If Seto Kaiba wanted something—then Seto Kaiba got it. Money was never any concern to him. He could have just as easily set more than _twice_ that amount on fire—and still never noticed it was missing.

Joey leaned against the wall out of breath from heaving all those bags up the stairs—Sam had leant him some extra money. "_Jesus_, you're killing me" he exclaimed, as she walked towards his bed. "Women are dangerous!" He kidded, closing his eyes, "I can see the headlines now—Death By Design!"

"What are these," she knelt down observantly, collecting the three duel monster cards from beside the bedside table, "Some sort of collectables?"

Joey's eyes locked immediately on the vague backsides of blurring golden brown dimensions, the dark voids widening against his irises, "Give me those," he tore the cards from her fingers quickly. "They aren't anything," he gently cupped them in his hands, sheltering them protectively against his chest.

Sam's own eyes widened in response, her lips parting, but not emitting any sound. However, it only took her a few moments to adapt, quickly assimilating the air of importance they must have held. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"I think you should go," Joey's words fled faster than he had intended, and twice as harshly as he wished. The steady rhythm in his chest now pulsated staccato vibrations throughout the duelist's staggering frame.

Although she was unable to retrace the tensing transformation of their conversation back to any rationally reasonable trigger, Sam respected the seemingly sensitive nature of which had affected the boy. Excusing herself with another soft apology, she let herself out, several amethyst auras falling sadly upon Joey's face as she disappeared without protest.

The berated blonde, however, had hardly noticed the concern encircling her face; instead, Joey was too absorbed in this shivering sensation that his stomach seemed to savor. _How dare she ask about something so personal, _he scolded with his eyes shut, even though he knew there was no way for Sam to have recognized them as anything more than they appeared to be.

For all she knew, they were simply trading cards—and under any other circumstances, Joey would have agreed, but over the years his experiences and the intricate images had transposed indistinguishably. Feeling as if all the memories had been unwillingly exposed, Joey felt an alarming sense of panic. Fingertips traced over the fragile outlines systematically, as the pattern in his breathing heaved in and out steadily in order to regain a sense of equilibrium.

It was no use though and neither the movements of his meandering hands, nor the methodical motions of his lungs were able to calm the collisions within his chest. In fact, Joey was hardly able to detect the smooth surface rounding the edges of the cards at all. The inability to feel sharply intensified the alarming rate at which his heartbeat continued accelerating. Still, he retained the ritualistic repetitions until his fingers faltered, falling inward along the flawless edges of his Red Eyes that went jaggedly into the center of the card. Suddenly, both conflicted corneas shot open, intensified with the inability to fathom the visual of his precious dragon in ruins.

The other two cards fell down to his feet lifelessly, "No, _no_," his heart slammed against his chest in a palpitating pattern, "Not my Red Eyes!" Joey voiced his distress, but the only sound reaching his eardrums was the shear scissoring sound of the paper tearing apart. The force he had exerted in attempts to shelter the cards from exposure had betrayed the protective intentions, leaving the cards not only exposed, but in ruins. The beastly body of the mysteriously magnificent creature was now frayed, and the stoic symmetry of the Red Eyes Black Dragon, forever disrupted.

Feeling equally out of his element, Kaiba had retreated from the music store, and down the same path he'd come down. There was a faint humming of crickets in the air, and the deep, midnight blue skies were clear—revealing a picturesque dusting of twinkling lights that danced on top of the water's shadow. Their reflections rippled in and out of focus the same way Kaiba's thoughts lingered back and forth between the incomplete fragments of his phone call. It was hard enough to live through the first time, but the voice in his head echoed on endlessly.

_…"Well that's not good enough!" the younger Kaiba cried out. "How is that a reason? Listen to yourself Seto!" The silence that shifted into Seto though was far from stoic now, it was suffocating every inch of air._ _His voice was lost, and Mokuba began to cry out. "When are you going to be back then?" The words hesitated between whether to pose a statement or a question, "When are you coming home…"_

_ The brunette's eyelids clenched together tightly, and he could hardly breathe. "I'm not."_

"That's enough," Kaiba commanded himself verbally, taking no notice to the woman passing by who offered him a disturbed look. His highly militarized mind wouldn't allow the rest of the conversation to advance any further. So instead the devastating after math chased him at the heals as the weaving waves overlapped in his mind, but as painfully as the memory tried to persist, the look on his face gave nothing away. He locked it up inside, allowing the undertow to drag it deep beneath the surface.

But there was no current strong enough to swallow Joey. The clock on the wall began to blur, it had hardly been five whole minutes, and yet the notion of time already erased. Instead of the lifeless crystal face of an ordinary timepiece, Joey saw the mocking motions of Yugi's Time Wizard against the clock on the wall, its hands spiraling uncontrollably around against the gamble of a _Time Roulette _that landed upon eminent destruction. Even if he played the remainder of his time out right, this was one loss that was irreversible, and his Red Eyes would never again be whole. There was an undeniable divide throughout the trading card that made a mirroring mark in his heart.

There was no longer any air in the room for his lungs to latch onto, Joey's head became hazy and unclear, his appendages paralyzed against the gravity that downwardly grounded his frame into the carpet. The deep blue pattern and wooly texture were meant to mask the hardwood floor in warmth, but the consistency caressing his cheeks still felt cold. _What the fuck was all that_, his thoughts gasped, still stunned and in shock, feeling as if he'd just undergone cardiac arrest. He couldn't connect the happenings though, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out when he'd fallen against the floor. Yet despite the lapse in logic, despite the chain of events that had seemingly evaporated from his recollect—Joey was laying bunched up on the ground. Tears tensely tethered between the course carpet fibers, into which they cascaded from Joey's entangled eyes that entrancingly encircled the card his fingers locked onto. His heart had regained a reasonable rhythm, but Joey was certain it had exploded at one point. Bewildering breaths finally broke against the air, staggering to swallow enough oxygen to obliterate the stationary suffocation; but upon resuscitation, all his heartbeat could do was bellow.

Barely breathing himself, Seto was also surrounded by an equally inconceivable situation back within the confinements of his luxurious, lakeshore residence. Yet, although his insides waged a merciless war against the memories magnifying within Kaiba's frame of conscious, there was some sense of method behind the madness.

Self restricting, selfish reactions from his previous phone call with Mokuba reflected in the anxiousness of his azure eyes. Unable to verbally admit his insensitivity left Seto consumed with the intricacies of his guilty complex, and knowing nothing but the necessity of correcting and conditioning, Kaiba inflicted the agony willingly to punish himself. Allowing the cries of Mokuba to echo inside his head, Kaiba clenched his eyes quietly, but resisted the desperate desire to redirect his thoughts. _I can't believe I just left him…my only family…_

Everything slowly flooded. His aching heart muscles strained against the unfamiliarity of his emotions, and the stressor caused an incalculable acceleration of adrenaline that exhausted all of his energy. Forcibly fashioning the phases of his self induced hysteria, Kaiba willed his aching orbs to open next, but inhumanely forbid himself from crying as his fingers crept up to the locket. The sterling silver chain felt like an asphyxiating anchor around his neck, but the progression of Kaiba's fingers remained constant until positioned around the frame.

Rather than lift it upward, allowing himself to breathe, Kaiba strained the chain outward until it practically choked him. Yet, there was almost a pleasant quirk in the painful angel of his fragilely formulating frown as Seto's eyes forcibly furrowed to face the still frame that lay beyond the clasp. A small, inaudible _click_ filled his ears and the custom cardholder unfastened, revealing the raven-haired silhouette of his younger brother. Two bright blue, indigo orbs that appeared to be tinted over ever so slightly in amethyst, shot up into Seto's, allowing their own fierce vibrancy to fall soullessly into shadows as he cast them over Mokuba's remorsefully. He could never, and would never, willingly bring himself to forgive such a neglectful abandonment of the promises he'd so thoughtlessly broken.

Although terribly flawed, Kaiba saw no other way to justly discipline his actions, than by plaguing himself mercilessly: constantly reminding himself of what he had done, and recreating the devastating sensation with visual accompaniment. It was a kinesthetic kind of learning, which he had to systematically carry out in a continuous fashion until the lesson imprinted itself inside the hollowness of his heart. The wavering weakness of rendering his emotions, willingly, to exposure combine with the countermeasure of evoking such earsplitting internal cries is what incrementally assessed the endless cycle. The deeper the painful burrowing, the more effectively the lesson proved—and the more agonizingly he exerted forbearance against emotional alleviation, the more learnedly the lesson was applied.

The session would not commence until Seto left himself thoroughly fatigued, until his eyes burned, and his throat bled with the same intensity he forcibly conditioned himself to uphold throughout his childhood. Despite the fact he tortured himself, it was necessary to develop such defenses while living under Gozaburo's roof all those years. To ensure Mokuba's wellbeing, he had to dehumanize his own—and their stepfather's rendition of parenting made it applicably easier to self instill.

After an hour of endless repetition, battling his own will against his restraint, Seto sank into himself—and satisfied with the resultant procedures, he finally called off the vicious attacks. Feeling the iciness compose his heartache accordingly, he sighed and slipped between the covers—mixing ice cubes calmly in his tonic before letting the liquid splash, refreshingly, down his throat.

Sighing, he twisted the switch next to his bedside to dim the lights, pulling his laptop out of his briefcase, and calmly corresponding to his corporate affairs. Emotionally unaffected, his eyes were fixed lifelessly on the dim illumination of the screen, and it was business as usual, letting his fingers glide over the keyboard unerringly—as if nothing else had even happened.

As he lay awake in his bed, Joey couldn't help but replay the events of the day over again in his head. Centralizing mainly around these alarming and devastating spirals he began slipping into lately. _It's just not normal_, he shook his head, pulling his cigarette from his lips, and exhaling slowly. _I've never felt so out of control in my life. To be honest, it's kind of starting to scare me. I thought getting away from everything was going to be good for me—I couldn't wait to put myself back out there, y'know to reestablish myself somewhere where nobody knew me._ He sighed in again slowly, and flicked half a cigarette into the ashtray. It was still relatively early he concluded, turning over on his side with his cell phone resting against his palm. Joey was still plenty upset over his Red Eyes, but regardless of its importance, _It's still just a card—a piece of paper_, he rationalized, _it's the idea behind it that's important, and I can't believe that I just screamed at her, and after she's clearly gone out of her way to help make me feel more comfortable here._ Joey frowned as he continued to conclude how out of character he'd really become. _I would never yell at Yugi or Tristen like that, and it's not like she sat there and tore the card up herself-that was my fault. What's wrong with you Joey? _He began asking himself. _You're acting like fucking Kaiba for god's sake_. The idea alone made him cringe, just the thought of turning into someone as arrogant and insensitive made his blood boil in disgust.

Knowing there was no other way he was going to clear his conscious, he began to dial up Sam so that he could apologize for how outrageously he'd acted that afternoon. Sitting up in his bed patiently, balancing the phone between his head and his shoulder, he lit another cigarette to calm his nerves. It's not like he thought she was going to be furious, or that the idea of apologizing was going to be difficult—it was the fact that he knew he'd have to explain himself that made Joey nervous. _But honestly_, he rationalized once more, _how can I possibly expect to move on with my life if I can't even talk about fucking trading cards?—all I even would have had to say was that they were something that reminded me of my friends back home. Why did I have to make that so fucking hard?_ Although his logic continued, it was interrupted when Sam's voice filled the line.

"Joey?" She asked, not quiet as hesitantly as she had back in his apartment, but not quiet as enthusiastically as she'd answered that morning either.

"Hey Sam," he forced himself to cut straight to the point, "I just, well, I just wanted to apologize for this afternoon. I didn't mean to act like that."

She let out a small laugh, "It's okay, it's pretty obvious I overstepped some personal boundaries."

"No," Joey shook his head, even though she couldn't see that through the phone, "It was me who was overstepping."

"Does that mean you're gonna tell me what those were?"

Joey inhaled deeply, hesitating only because he suddenly felt embarrassed again—telling a complete stranger that your life used to revolve around being a professional card game player probably wasn't the most impressive way to tell somebody you spent the last years of your life.

"It's okay," she spoke up again, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Nah, it's not that, I was just overreacting earlier that's all. They're just cards, it sounds kind of silly, but there just kind of like reminders," Joey laughed. Even though nothing about what he'd said was even remotely funny, the laugh was more like a nervous habit he'd formed over the years, always using his sense of humor to downplay a situation.

Somehow she seemed to understand this though, even without really knowing anything about Joey. "Of your friends you mean?"

"Yeah, actually," he felt somewhat surprised with how effortlessly she could see right through him.

She breathed out slowly, "Are you ever going to tell me about them?"

Joey fell silent for a moment, _I guess I didn't realize how closed off I've been_, but it was still hard for him to just start spilling his life story. "I…I don't know," he mumbled unconfidently, but it was a little easier for him to gather his thoughts over the phone than in person. "It's just kind of hard to figure out where to start…" his voice trailed off once more.

Sam's amiable tone began to fill in his blanks, "That's understandable, you're a long way from home Joey, I wouldn't expect the transition to be that easy."

"That's true," he agreed, beginning to realize that maybe being so far from home was actually what had been making him so hostile after all. "I guess, well, I just left a lot behind in Japan."

"Well, yeah," she laughed, although spoke sincerely and not sarcastically, "You left your whole life behind."

Joey dragged his cigarette again thoughtfully before responding, it was almost scary how easily she seemed to understand how he was feeling. _And even though all those friendship speeches got kind'a obnoxious, _Joey grinned thinking back to Tea, _it's kind of nice to have someone else around like her who's so in tune with people's emotions._ And for a second, he almost forgot that it was really Mai that Sam had originally reminded him so much of.

"Listen, it's not that late," she offered after Joey failed to say anything back, "I can come back over if you want?"

"That'd be nice actually," he decided aloud, figuring maybe having some company really would cheer him up.

"Okay, well just give me like twenty minutes and I'll come by. Besides," the tone of her voice grew somewhat playful, "I think I might have something that'll cheer you up Japan."

A nervous churning conjured in his stomach though, as her image reverted back to Mai's again, and Joey's head took her intentions five miles in the wrong direction. "Uhm…"

"Don't worry Joey, I'm not gonna try and fuck you or anything," she laughed, seemingly detecting the confusion coming from the blonde, "Lets just say, it's more of an herbal remedy."

"Herbal remedy?" Joey spoke aloud befuddled, "Ya' mean like….tea?"

"Oh my god," she snorted, "You are really so much more precious than you realize. No, I'm not bringing you tea you moron. Although," her voice trailed off, "I guess you could use it for that if you really wanted."

"I'm lost," Joey shook his head.

"Perhaps it's a cultural difference," she posed, somewhat questioningly to herself, "But I'll be over soon—maybe we can mark this as the first step of your Americanization!"

After hanging up the phone, Joey got up from his bed and began to prepare his apartment a little more appropriately for having guests. Starting with picking up the Duel Monster cards that still lay on the carpet, _no need to call anymore unnecessary attention to you guys_, he concluded, picking them up and placing them within one of the zipper pockets on his backpack. Next, he cleared away the mess of ashes he'd left around his bed from anxious chain smoking, and changed into something else than just his boxers. _Probably might come off a little suggestive_, he laughed to himself, slipping into sweats and a black t-shirt.

Around 10:30, almost precisely twenty minutes later like she promised, there was a knock on his door. After letting Sam in and getting situated, both of them sat pretzel legged on Joey's bed, across from one another.

"So," Joey started off the conversation, for once the look in his eyes was somewhat normal as opposed to the dreary downcast gaze that had so routinely filled the blonde's eyes, "What exactly is this solution you talked about earlier supposed to be for?"

"Well Japan, I'm glad you asked," she smiled, digging through her purse to retrieve a small zipper pouch, not yet revealing its contents. "I don't want you to feel like you have to spill out your whole life story to me or anything, but I'm a pretty observant person. And, well, I've noticed that ever since I met you, you've seemed pretty tense."

"I'm not tense!" Joey spoke up defensively, the word immediately associating with Kaiba. _Hah, I am nowhere near as rigid as moneybags._

"Oh relax, are you on your period or something?" She rolled her eyes, "I just meant that you look like you've always got a lot going on in that big, blonde head of yours is all. It's not a bad thing, I just think you need to learn how to relax a little more. After all, you are like, what? Almost twenty hours away from home?"

"Yeah, yeah," Joey shrugged, even though he knew she was dead on as usual. _I have hardly been able to keep a consistent mood since I got to this place._ "Guess I've been feelin' a little trapped in my own head lately."

"Exactly," she nodded, beginning to reveal this mysterious miracle cure from inside the smaller bag she retrieved earlier. "And, I don't know how you guys relieve stress back in Japan…"

_Hah, card games,_ Joey laughed in his own head.

"…but here in the states, we have a lot of relaxing extracurricular activities. And, since you didn't strike me as the _go out and get involved_ type, I figured maybe you'd enjoy one of my more laid back, personal favorites." She reached in and pulled out a small, blown glass device of alternating black, white, blue, and red swirls. Joey recognized the device immediately with an amused grin, but she continued without picking up on the cue. "Hopefully you wont be offended," she laughed, pulling out a ziplock bag that held a very distinct aroma, "But I find that a big ol' bowl pack can cure just about anything."

Joey continued to assess the bag of weed sitting on her lap next the pipe, allowing himself to take a deep, subtle breath that filled his nostrils with a rather potent blend. "Y'know, just cause I'm from Japan doesn't mean I'm a total moron," he grinned, "Contrary to popular belief, we _do_ know about more than technology."

"Well, I didn't say that, now did I?" Sam corrected him humorously, "Besides, don't you know that us ignorant American's associate that stereotype with the Chinese?"

"Oh my god," Joey covered his face with his hand, "That was terrible."

"And so is your ability to detect sarcasm," she flashed a toothy, mocking smile.

Joey sighed, "As you keep tellin' me."

"But anyways, clearly you're aware of the wonderful world of marijuana, but have you ever actually smoke before? I mean, obviously I don't want to keep busting it out if it's not really your thing."

"Can't say I'm a big stoner or anything," he shrugged, "But yeah I've smoked before, believe it or not I used to be in a gang when I was a lot younger," he laughed softly without realizing how easily disclosed such a personal aspect of his life.

"A gang huh?" She raised her eyebrows, "I can't say I pegged you for that sort of thing."

"Hah, well, let's just say it wasn't exactly the most conventional gang, at least not compared to what you're probably assuming." _Doubt beating the shit out of people with yo-yo's is equivalent to the Latin Kings,_ Joey thought amusedly, reflecting back on his reckless years.

"Well let's hope not, last thing I need to get is shot," she said sarcastically. "So, you down to smoke then Japan?"

Joey narrowed his eyes, "Well I'm not sure if _Japan_ would like to smoke, but I know that _Joey_ wouldn't mind."

"Sorry, sorry," she waved off the nickname she'd grown somewhat accustomed to using, "But I'm glad, I mean, like I said, I don't really know how frequently you've done it, but _trust me_, I really think it might help you ease into this whole transition a little better."

Although he'd never been partial to the idea of drugs, this particular substance was one that Joey believed didn't fall under the category of '_drugs'-_it was just a plant. It's not like he was blowing down coke like he'd seen some of his other former gang members' intake addictively. Plus, he was curious to remember how the effects settled into his blood stream as he reached out to retrieve the bowl Sam had packed, and extended forwards.

_After all_, Joey stared down thoughtfully as he placed the pipe between his lips, _it's been awhile since I've gotten high. I had to cut back after awhile. After all, despite the fact it __**did**__ add to the overall experience of holographic, three dimensional, mystical monsters, it posed a challenge to strategizing throughout a dual._ So, with his lighter aimed carefully, corning one of the edges, as not to waste all the 'greens', he flicked his finger across the wheel and inhaled deeply. As the thick clouding smoke gathered in the chamber, he removed his finger systematically from the clear hole, and sucked down the rest of his hit before handing it back; carefully holding it in for a good minute or two, trying to zero it out before releasing again.

"Like a champ," Sam remarked approvingly, mimicking the same motions as Joey.

The two of them continued to repeat the process for a few bowl packs straight, before Sam finally went back home for the night—making sure to leave Joey a few pre-rolled joints in case he needed another quick fix.

Inhaling deeply, with another cigarette resting in his hand, Joey leaned back comfortably in his bed as the alternating effects of the toxin sifted more deeply into his blood stream. His high had setin almost immediately, and even more pleasantly than he remembered, as the more it kicked in, the more it kicked out all of the undesirable thoughts that had been plaguing him lately. In fact, Joey found himself not thinking at all, not about Mai, or his Red Eyes, or Japan—none of it. Laughing and relaxing, completely absorbed with the cigarette smoke rings he blew, effortlessly, above his head. Joey was absolutely elated; finding his mindset lingering back into a setting he recognized. Despite the shifting smoke screen that obscured his slanted, blood shot ruby eyes, Joey was seeing everything clearly… or so he thought.

The next day, the rays of sunlight crept slowly through the blinds, cleansing Seto's mind completely of the previous day; besides, he had official Kaiba Corp. business to adhere to today, and therefore could not allow himself to be distracted. Joey on the other hand had reverted to the exact, exasperating way he had been the last; the absence of the toxin welcomed all those bad thoughts back into his mind. And the alternating mental atmosphere had morphed his dreams into an irreconcilable blend of nightmares.

Joey distanced himself the entire day. Although temporarily distracted, he found himself sulking back into the stagnation of his sobriety. Sam may have acted as a distraction of sorts to the inevitable loneliness of starting over, but at the same time, her striking resemblance to Mai made it almost impossible to forget everything he'd run so far away from. Alone in his apartment, with both legs pulled into his chest; Joey found the silence hugging him closely. _I can't do this_, his voice trembled, involuntarily clenching his fingers even more tightly into the denim on his jeans, a salty serum hovering around his eyelashes.

The blonde tried desperately to dissuade his outburst; his shoulders shook vulnerably under the weight of his wailing. Each stifled cry was muffled as Joey pressed his eyelids deeper and deeper into the fabric, contracting his stomach muscles helplessly when his weathered frame continued to cascade contemptuously out onto the floor. As if some invisible force had demagnetized the duelist's defenses, Joey struggled to pull himself back upright. In all his life, he'd never felt so helpless, with absolutely nothing left to ground into for support.

_They're gone_, Joey reminded himself over and over again with both fists tangled through a mess of golden hair, _They're all gone—I don't need them—I've never needed __**anyone**__._The negativity consumed him as he began to find a sort of empowerment, damning everything and everyone around him. _They just leave…they always leave._ Joey's breath went jagged against the out of sync rhythm of his chest. _Even Mai…she's gone…_ "She'd dead," he found himself paralyzed; it was the first time that he'd ever said it out loud. The words of acceptance should have filled him with relief, he finally said it, she was never coming back, he couldn't save her, it was never his choice to crossover, it was hers.

_The ceiling began to chip away like picturesque flakes of paint falling from the walls. The floorboards beneath them splintered, and the extinguishing cries of The Great Leviathan erupted, as the legendary beast elevated lifelessly above their heads. The Pharaoh shielded his eyes against the turbulent tremors that tore down the room around them. Joey's face, although still frozen in stone, began to regain feeling somewhere out of body; his soul suddenly becoming swallowed into ultraviolet auras as the room burst into flames._

_As the explosive entities, trapped systematically, adorning Dartz's stone slab, became malleable as the magma melted away their restraints. Hovering above in a decaying dome of emerald incandescence, the casualties of the oricalchos gleamed celestially around him. Floating centripetally overhead, the inevitable forces of motion and gravity spun their shapes, pulling them back towards the flickering flames of rebirth. Yet, as each individual absorbed the reflections of the other, the incarnation of quintessence that defined and distinguished them became contravening. Lost to a void, they had forcibly abandoned much more than just bodily experience. Still partially frozen, Joey found the completion of his metamorphosis obsolete as images of Yugi, Kaiba, Mai, and even Valon paralleled his peripherals. He could hear the deep and distant echo of the Pharaoh's voice wandering eminently in and out of his ears, as the final phase left them oscillating between the combustious embers. _

_The discretion was an unspoken understanding amongst the duelists—to rise from the ashes, or to become forever entrapped in endless light. Regardless of the opportune direction that Kaiba irrefutably advanced towards, Joey's gut tangled in question, no matter what he chose, both extremes burned the air in his lungs, and he choked to find any silver lining amidst the hellacious horizon._

Joey's fists bawled up tensely as he struggled to relive the vividly surreal footage of the single moment that had successfully broken him. Despite the pulse that still violated his pleading veins, part of him died that day.

_Detecting a rhythm beneath his breast, Joey's heart took off running, how could they ever go back so easily after everything they'd just been through? His eyes were drawn unexpectedly to Kaiba's, which looked back at Joey's hesitance in disbelief, and for a moment, almost concern. In those few seconds, Joey developed an agonizing twist in his heart that he hoped the other boy wouldn't recognize; in all his life he had never felt a single bone in his body go soft at the sight of Seto. His indigo eyes seemed to electrify against the scarlet shadows of Joey's own. For the first time, the blonde became transfixed with the executive; he both deeply admired and envied Kaiba's sense of courage and confidence. _

"_Come on, seriously Wheeler," the feeling dimmed as Kaiba rolled his eyes, "Please tell me that even **you're** not stupid enough to stay." Even a breath away from death, and Seto's disdainful expression hadn't changed at all. Joey stuttered, but didn't speak._

"_Yeah Joey," Yugi glanced back, "It's time to go home."_

"_C'mon mate." Even Valon had spoken up awkwardly from behind, Joey had almost forgotten he was there, "This is no place or someone like you-'never give up,' remember?" his former enemy spoke genuinely. "You taught me that."_

"_But," Joey whispered silently, as the seconds' left to decide drew to a close. He was about to protest, feeling weak and exhausted, when a warm hand slid affectionately through his fingers, "He's right Joey."_

_Suddenly, everything froze again, and even Joey's pulse dropped, the sound of Mai paralyzed him, and shivers chased her voice down his spine. In all this time, he'd been terrified to look back at her, even holding eyes with Seto Kaiba had been effortless compared to the idea of finally re-meeting Mai's. He didn't need to verbalize that for her though, she already knew, so instead Joey's fingers tightened around hers, pulling Mai ever so slightly into him. Locks of her hair fell around his shoulders as she held her face delicately against the back of his neck. A slightly reassuring sensation crept back into him, but as soon as he built up the courage to face her, Joey's entire world shattered against her words, "But I can't go with you this time," her voice was pained, but her face was sincere. Everyone else was thrown into a deeper silence, and even Valon bore a look of surprise, yet softened slightly towards Mai because unlike the others, he understood why._

_Joey's eyes searched through hers, ruby sparks that were flickering away, pleaded for an explanation, his reaction to the calmness of her composure came in a blur of emotions, shifting in his facial expressions as the disbelief subsided. Mai watched him patiently as his eyebrows fluctuated back and forth from infuriation and immense distress. "Mai!" the tone of his voice cracked spitefully, "How can you say that to me! After everything…" his throat was swelling under the pressure of his words, "I don't…I just…why Mai…"_

_She sighed heavily, still holding his hand more tightly than before, "I'm tired Joey," her eyes strayed sideways to the view beneath them, and Joey's features began to soften, he couldn't bear to see that lifeless look flooding into her eyes again. Neither of them said anything for a moment, but Joey refused to accept the reality of it. His chest heaved and his eyes burned, every confirmation she gave him was like glass in his ears._

"_It's okay," her voice, although small, had regained the confident vigor she'd lost sight of before, "Don't ask me to try and explain myself. Please, trust me Joey." Her eyes poured into him as she repositioned both hands around his abdomen that tightened and clenched. Even free from the oricalchos, Joey understood that she'd been through hell. Bringing him into a tender embrace, she took the words right out of his mouth, "It's just too much Joey," her tears were almost calloused. _

"God damn it," he cursed in Japanese, slamming his fist against the dresser as he got up, too aggravated to just sit there. Pacing around the pattern on the carpet, Joey encircled the apartment; it was supposed to be his escape, but now it felt more like a prison. How was he just supposed to forget her? To just let go of the woman he promised he would stand by unconditionally? The guilt was unbearable. Lighting up a cigarette with tremoring hands, his back melted down the doorframe, and into a puddle on the ground, crying just a little with his palms running down his face. "I guess that was my problem from the beginning though, I didn't _do _anything," he concluded with a terrible laugh. _Poor Mai_ he envisioned Marik haunting her footsteps—the orichalcos draining her—and that's when Joey really started crying. _She had to deal with that monster all by herself, how could I have not seen that coming? It was so obvious,_ he continued to mentally harass himself, _I mean, come __**on**__, all those looks she gave me, how the hell did I not prevent this? All of the signs were right there in front of my face. This is all my fault, I should have known sooner. I just, I just __**should**__ have…_he shut his eyelids painfully.

"_You can't save everyone Joey," she was looking up, trying to smile for him, but something about her had never recovered._

_The blonde's face was pained; knitting his eyebrows as his lips visibly trembled. He was falling apart, and everyone could see it, but even the heartlessly superior, Seto Kaiba, let Joey be; seemingly no longer concerned with the short time they had left to embark. However, Joey also knew that their window was growing smaller, but he just couldn't let her go._

_Valon went to speak up in her defense, but nothing came out when he opened his mouth, yet little did he know how crucial his silence turned out to be. Joey's eyes were painted red, but he couldn't bring himself to cry when he traced Valon's expression back to hers; they both looked into the face of death so calmly, almost peacefully. The idea of eternal slumber seemed to sparkle, even in their hollowed eyes. Despite their strengths, the look of determination in Valon was the opposite of what he'd seen in Kaiba's gaze. Joey tried hard to accept that their fates had become metaphysical; the others and himself had survived the throttle of Dartz's madness, but Mai and Valon had lived it. This wasn't anything he could experience vicariously. Isolated so deeply in this war had caused Mai to transform long before this, and she could no longer identify with the actions of man._

"_I'm not going without you!" He exclaimed protectively, lifting Mai up into his chest._

_She had both arms wrapped just as tightly around his neck, "I know," her face aligned softly against his. "That's why I already decided it, so that you don't have to."_

_Words of protest built in his chest, but she knew him all too well, silencing his pleas softly as her lips beckoned his one last time. "I love you," she ran her fingers gently along Joey's cheeks, trying to soothe his worried looks. "And if you really want what's best for me—"_

"_Of course I do—"_

"_Then let me go."_

_Unable to deny her, Joey closed his eyes and held her for the last time, hardly able to uncurl his fingers when she told him that it was time. At that moment, Joey thought he was going to collapse, his heart rolled over in his stomach, and he stood motionlessly as the walls around them caved in. He was a breathe away from chasing her shadow as it scintillated through the splintering light, when a strong hand fell awkwardly on his shoulder. "Come on Joey," Kaiba said quietly, turning the younger boy away. The warmth from Seto's fingers startled Joey though, as he was quick to hide his tears, but to his own astonishment, all he heard the brunette say was, "It's okay Wheeler." The compassion was short lived, but astounding at the same time as Joey found strength transferring over from Seto's stoicism. Standing in the rejuvenating rays, just a white picket fence away from the conspiring clouds, Joey felt the plastic plasma melt into warm currents, and the restraints of preposition loosen into flexible joints._

_However, something inside Joey cracked that day, but didn't totally break, constantly withdrawing himself, as Mai became nothing but a memory. Although he tried hard to embody the boy he once was, something in his eyes was never the same. He was now forced to develop the understanding that Mai already discovered: once you go to hell and back, you never fully leave that place. Charred remains will gasp for oxygen, heaving just to breathe—but the flames will continue to engulf all of their strength. Elements of ourselves become lost to the void—not erased—but burned into the ashes of disappointment, realization, and ultimately sacrifice. Theses pieces of us are then left to float, indistinguishably, through the air—for our own eyes are too low, too discouraged and weak to pierce through the profuse smog that now smothered Joey's ambitions._

Burying his hands deep into his palms, his fingers dug into tuffs of blonde hair, scratching the top layer of his scalp. His radio was lulling in the background, and he could catch a few reverberations between his heaves. He tried his best to suppress the steady flow, knowing it wasn't the _manly_ thing to do, but the tears were beyond his control. Joey's radio, likewise, did little to console him—only offering the most horrifically, untimely selections to dress his open wounds.

As the steady melody connected with his eardrums, Joey recognized the song immediately, and let out another sarcastic laugh, "Well that's just bloody perfect." The irony was god awful as the words wretched salt into his cuts, lulling Joey's mind into insanity with the lyrics of _Your Ex-Lover Is Dead _by Stars.

He couldn't help it, everything about the situation was horrible, and he was an absolute wreck. Joey couldn't help but continue to think that what happened to Mai was mostly his fault. Even worse yet, he abhorred even the sight of himself for never noticing after all that time. Joey was consumed with guilt; with the self-disdain that he was too busy to see that there was something _wrong_ with her. Even though it was in the past, he couldn't let it go; no, he _refused_ to let it go.

Joey was dancing dangerously close to the deep end, and these catastrophic new circumstances were _not_ going to help him heal with all the horrible things lingering over the horizon.

"…_Live through this, and you wont look back…It's nothing but time and a face that you lose. I chose to feel it—and you couldn't choose."_

Unable to ever create the connection, Kaiba's acoustic system echoed the ending of the melody, but it had a curiously coincidental affect. Reminding Seto without warning of the things he'd been sacrificing his entire life.

"…_Here's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave…this was what I wanted. I gave what I gave….I'm not sorry it's over, I'm not sorry there's nothing to save….I'm not sorry there's nothing to save."_

Sighing, Kaiba turned off the station, preferring the silence to such noise. The temporary silence, however, was interrupted with the periodic chirp of his phone across from his workstation. Curiously, Kaiba picked it up, clicking a random button to brighten the screen, but as soon as he read whom the missed call was from, he wished he hadn't. _At least there isn't a voicemail_, Kaiba placed his hands over his face in disquietingly, but the twisting in his stomach began to submit painfully, and his throat went dry. His fingers, although immobile, were itching to play. Three days was just too long to wait for it, and he couldn't take another mental beating. With that, Kaiba recalled the piano owner's advice: _"Y'know, it's not really the most fancy place in town, but they have a piano there," the gentleman offered as he took the check. "It's part of their appeal you see, they offer live music, and often times they'll let anyone participate."_ The door of Kaiba's apartment slammed before the thought could even finish.

In a matter of minutes, Kaiba had entered the establishment and gained a spot within that night's line up—ordering a bourbon on the rocks to ease himself. _That guy was right, normally I don't think I'd submit myself so willingly to a place as classless as this,_ Seto's lip pulled upward at the sight of the dirty floors, and ungodly aroma of cigarettes and alcohol. He sighed, pulling his own pack smoothly from his coat pocket, still dressed in his business formal—_Guess I shouldn't be so hypocritical_ he sighed, flipping up the top of his zippo to singe the end of his Marlboro.

Patiently waiting for his turn to perform, Kaiba hadn't broken eye contact with the stage, he licked his lips eagerly, nearing the completion of his forth drink. However, tolerance was that of a specialty, and so Seto hardly noticed the alcohol rocking back and forth in his empty stomach as he finally heard his name, although butchered by the announcer, beckoning him forward.

The steps creaked beneath his shoes, and then gracefully filled the empty space on the black bench. His thoughts began conducting immediately as he adjusted himself.

_The stammering silence echoed disbelievingly in Mokuba's voice, "…wh…what did you say?"_

"_I said I'm not coming home," Kaiba said forcefully, his tone falling cruel and professional. But he had no other choice than to compose himself._

_Mokuba was bawling, and the tender tone twisted around in Seto's stomach. The hot tears were gushing through the phone, pooling around Kaiba's feet as his brother began to cry out hysterically, "You…you can't mean that! Why did you have to leave!" The voice cracked ever so slightly on each syllable, "Why can't you come home!" Little breathes began to hyperventilate staggered, backward and forward. "Please, **please **come home Seto!"_

"_I can't."_

"_But you **promised!"**_

Finally familiarized, his long, fragile fingers filled the same spaced along the keys as they had the previous day, and the chatter of onlookers became white noise. Blind to the audience around him, the emptiness cloaked his view of reality, and Seto nestled up comfortably to the darkness. Everything, himself included, began to disappear. _You'll never know how much this hurts,_ Kaiba could hardly admit it to himself, _but I'm sorry Mokuba. _His lids turned downward, and his fingers assumed position, _I hope one day you can understand, and I hope one day you can forgive me_. He treated the warped keys delicately, despite the fact its quality was nothing special—the song was sacred.

Joey's silhouette lingered along the lakefront, letting the rhythm of its waters rock him back and forth, leaving him in some sort of hypnosis. His hazel eyes had gone calm, and his lungs thickened with the sweet smoke of sticky THC. As the substance swallowed his central nervous system, his lids were heavy and slanted. After remembering that Sam had left him with a couple joints, Joey had gotten belligerently baked, feeding off the high. The inconsistencies in his life vanished, and everything was only perceivable in its most simple form. He did not think about the way his feet were falling, or the foreign faces passing on either side of him. Intoxicatingly entranced, the sweet sounds of a gentle instrument and the low humming of voices became magnetic, and their soft reverberations lulled him down the steps of a dimly lit, basement.

Absentmindedly, the blonde moved in motion with the song as the weed left his situational awareness completely disabled. Joey stared up bemused, but couldn't help allow an ambiguous angel to fold up in the corner of his smile. Dragging coolly on the end of his cigarette, he breathed in the sight of Seto Kaiba in a smokey, second-class music bar on the wrong side of the red carpet. This was no place for Mr. Executive, and anyone here in there right mind could see that. However, tastefully dressed in his usual attire, Seto seemed to offset the stereotype with his playing. Joey leaned back against the bar on both elbows, and watched his adversary's steady fingers glide over the keyboard with poise, producing a melody that was surprisingly pleasant to the ear. _Never took him for the god damn Piano Man_, Joey shook his head, growing increasingly more amused, and slightly empowered by the sight of Seto subjecting his softer side to public recognition. _Guess he never expected anyone to recognize him here_. However, Joey maintained a diplomatic distance through ought Kaiba's performance, unlike a certain someone, Joey actually held a degree of respect for those around him. _Besides, _Joey noted, _he's not half bad. _Never once realizing that this _wasn't_ Japan anymore—the idea that the brunette _shouldn't_ be there, never surfaced inside his clouded state of consciousness.

As Kaiba finished gracefully, he stood up to receive his acknowledgement from the crowd, they might not have noticed how entirely misplaced he looked in his five thousand dollar pin stripe suit, but Joey couldn't let it go. Staring down Seto as he took his subtle bow, he assessed Kaiba's cool exterior, dressed to impress, his suit perfectly pressed, his jacket draped tastefully over his shoulder, and a silk black tie hanging a tad bit too loose for Seto Kaiba's usual stance, but that same prominent mixture of cologne and professionalism sifting through the smoke. He looked almost calm, but Joey couldn't help but mix things up just a little, letting out a sharp, distinctive whistle from the back of the room that caused Kaiba's ears to perk up defensively, as his eyes darted immediately to its source. Locking eyes with Joey, his posture tightened and his eyes pierced, politely, yet forcefully, cutting through the various tables and bystanders that separated him from the blonde.

Joey took a calm swig of his drink, bending his body upward as Kaiba approached, "Isn't this a little out of your style?" He grinned, a trailing hint of sarcasm lingered in the air, yet Joey had not intended to hit such a fragile nerve.

The crowd around them had already either directed their attention to the next performer, or had been to drunk to take a particular interest, so they hardly noticed as Kaiba wrapped his fingers forcefully around Joey's wrist, clamping the other vehemently over the boy's mouth as he pushed him towards an even more dimly lit corner out of sight. Joey resisted modestly with both wrists folding around Kaiba's arms, but it was no use as the CEO towered over him, pressing Joey's back hard against the wall. "What the fuck are you doing here," he hissed closely on the side of Joey's face; who felt his own heart rate accelerate as Kaiba's breathing collided against in his ear in a soft, yet forceful whisper.

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

**OKAY, so _finally_ those two have noticed each other! IN AMERICA. Sorry, for those of you who watch the abridged series-I couldn't resist. Anyways, I was originally going to use that piano-bar scene later, but I just couldn't help it because I love the tension. Also, for those of you who are like, "how the eff does Joey not notice how unusual it is to see Kaiba," I was trying to make it seem like the weed offset his ability to do so. (even though as a veteran smoker, even I know it usually doesn't disable someone THAT much—but when you haven't smoked for awhile, you'd be surprised at how intensely it can alter your reaction time!) I was also pretty proud of myself for incorporating more of Seto's p.o.v—as I've failed to do so previously.**

**Please, please, pretty please review too :D I know that I've dragged this on, and I know Joey has spent his time in the company of females lately, but it was all to build up towards this moment. After this, everything is going to change. **

**Plus, just some food for thought, if you think all my descriptive imagery is boring or off-putting—just think about how descriptive their more _personal_ scenes are going to be. ;)**


	5. Chemistry of a Car Crash

_*this chapter has a flashback that continuously surfaces throughout, i tried to designate it primarily with italics and by centering it-in some cases i used a little "-.-.-.-" when it wasn't as clear. And then the " .-*-.._-**~...~**-_..-*-. " secludes a portion that pertains to Kaiba-the same flashbacks still apply within this part though. _Hopefully it's not too confusing! :)

**Chapter Five: _Chemistry of a Car Crash _**

_As if Kaiba's heavy breathing had blown the alternating atmosphere away, Joey's pupils began to dilate and constrict uncontrollably._

"_Me? Wh-wh-what are you doing here?" He breathed unsteadily, choking upon the unfamiliarity of oxygen in place of smoke—and suddenly the inconsistencies actualized, and Seto Kaiba didn't belong._

"_Answer," Kaiba's breathed in incriminates, "The question."_

"_I live here," the blonde struggled under the brunette's masculine hold._

_Kaiba's fists squeezed the duelist involuntarily as pale, nimble fingers cut off the circulation in Joey's wrists. "What…did…you…say?"_

_The other boy whimpered in response, shrinking down defensively out of fear. "I…I live here," his stuttered and his eyes were closed._

_Kaiba's entire body shook with infuriation, causing a sea of red to splash against his face, "**I** live here," the executive stated, as if the privilege was exclusive._

There was a systematic chirping filling the air that hummed electronically around the exhausted boy. As the sounds stirred him uneasily from his slumbering state, several eyelids blinked open in confusion as the room around him materialized in the light.

Joey's first instinct was to panic, feeling his arms jerk sideways, gripping the guardrails. His posture loosed though as the blurry symmetries focused into images. _Where am I?_ He thought, observing the portable box at his bedside, which flashed a series of numbers almost every time he blinked. As he tried to grasp his surroundings, he noticed a myriad of sensors stuck to his chest, and numerous white colored wires that intertwined all the way to the device at his side.

"Hello?" He asked, glancing around unsurely at the room. It was set up almost like an apartment, but the space was entirely unfamiliar to him

There was a sudden movement from behind a pale blue curtain. "Oh, thank goodness," an elderly woman appeared, "I was wondering when you'd wake up!"

Joey smiled out of politeness, but couldn't hide the explicit hostility towards the stranger. "Who are you? Where am I?" he sputtered frantically, pulling the various cords off of his body.

"Easy now," she calmly eased his hands away from the tabs. "My name is Alice," the woman smiled. "I'm your nurse—You're in the hospital," she clarified soothingly.

"But I'm not sick…" he trailed off, still in a daze, shifting backwards against the bed frame.

"You're right," she agreed, replacing the sensors that Joey had successfully removed. "But it seems that you had a rather rough night yesterday. Your friend called you in unconscious around midnight."

"My friend?"

_One of the ambulance attendants approached Kaiba._

"_There's room in the back if you'd like to ride with your friend…"_

_Friend? Kaiba glared, both embarrassed and disgusted by the association._

"…_we're going to need someone to contact anyways, but we have to leave immediately."_

"Mhm," she nodded, checking his charts and vitals, "Didn't stay the whole night, but long enough to talk with the doctors and ensure that everything possible was being done."

Joey's mind, which had already long since begun to wander, had spiraled off even more counterproductively. An overlapping logic continuously tried to process the information, but all he could draw were more blanks.

"Well, you're responding a lot more healthily today," the woman interrupted his chain of thought. "You gave everyone a pretty good scare though, you should thank your friend," she smiled, replacing Joey's file. "You're lucky to have such strong support in your life."

"I know I will, they're truly like an answer to my prayers. I'll call the first chance I get," Joey assured her, thinking back to Sam.

"Good to hear," she smoothed over her uniform, "Now then, I'm all finished here, you just press that button if you need me," she pointed to a red square on the bedside. "The doctor should be in to see you shortly."

"Thanks," Joey held up his hand, feeling both exhausted and curious at the same time. _What the hell happened last night?_ He scrutinized, examining himself thoroughly for clues. _The last thing I remember is smoking, _eyebrows furrowed fixedly, frustrated with the empty projectile, _but after that everything just goes blank. _Lids closed painfully.

**-.-.-.-**

_Joey's eyes burst open, pulsating against the shockwaves of Seto's tsunami like affect. **This isn't real,** he decided frantically and began to struggle aggressively, writhing and squirming between the wall and the sculpted outlines of Kaiba's body pressing into the indents and grooves of his own._

_The sign of struggle only willed the executive's superior strength to restrain his pray in a way that was even more suffocating. Arching his shoulders, Kaiba bent his upper half into Joey, and the lightweight material in his business suit shifted to define the chiseled outline of his frame._

"_Don't fuck with me, Wheeler," he grinded his teeth, "I'm serious—what the fuck are you doing here?"_

_The brunette's grip left deep, purple indents as the blood vessels burst into blackening bruises, but Joey had already lost all sense of feeling. **This isn't real**, he chanted over, and over to himself as the reality and the high transposed indecipherably in his subconscious. The boy's state of consternation created a catastrophe, throwing off the equilibrium that balanced Joey's nervous system_

_. His mind went a mile a minute, unable to concentrate on any of his thoughts fixedly as they blurred and overlapped extrinsically, and the extraneous fit of emotions introduced a vertiginous paralysis to his petrified limbs. As his heart skyrocketed and plummeted undecidedly, the constant rhythm was thrown into an accelerating whirlwind, instinctively causing Joey's brain to send out signals to the rest of his body._

"_Speak mutt," Kaiba commanded, disgustedly absorbing the fearful scent of the blonde's vulnerability. "I said **speak**, not play dead," Kaiba's breath staggered across the increasing lack of color in Joey's face, as he forcefully thrust the planking teen's shoulders backwards and forwards._

_**He has to be fucking with me**, Kaiba tried to persuade himself convincingly, **Wheeler is just trying to get in my head so he can catch me off guard.**_

_The dizziness dissolved Joey's thoughts into a disabling dementia that left his subconscious struggling to extract any verbal concentration of words that hadn't already diffused; one idea discontinued another, opinions irrationally exchanged one extreme for its opposite, and meaningful validation liquefied._

"_This isn't real," Joey mumbled unintelligently. "You're not real."_

_**-.-.-.-**  
><em>

Sighing deeply, Joey accepted the inability to conceive what had occurred, and continued to analyze himself in wait of clarification. Both arms extended, and Joey noticed the discoloration that surrounded his I.V. he glanced to its twin, and noticed the marks (markings) were on both arms, painting frequencies of black and violet smudges that welted into his skin like leprosy. _I don't remember getting into a fight_, he furthered his observation, knowing all too well from past experiences that the bruises were handprints, _An impressively large pair of hands too_, he turned his forearms in every direction, suddenly taking note of thin cuts that were relative to the bruise patterns. _Are those…fingernails? _His eyes budged at the tiny slits around his wrists.

**-.-.-.-**

"_Of course I'm real!" Kaiba snapped, confusing Joey's delusionary state with one of disrespect. "Now stop whatever game you're trying to play," his nails dug sharply, just barely breaking the skin, allowing warm, red currents to trickle and pool beneath his own fingertips._

_Kaiba didn't even notice the infliction, and neither did Joey; instead, Kaiba's mind calculated control with the callousness of a cognitive correctional facility; there was a hallucinating hysteria accumulating as he assessed the unconventional actions that inflicted an intangible level of dissolution towards his personal authority. Joey's actions had broken one of Kaiba's cardinal rules, and the undesirable presence violated jurisdiction; leaving his superior vulnerable as he crossed over into the unchartered territory of Seto's personal life, invading the borderline like a fugitive._

_No one was ever supposed to hear him play, and no one was ever supposed to know where he was. Yet, the idea and the reality had collided with a much more fated force. As the illusionary escape shattered; Kaiba's world shook, sending pulsating shockwaves throughout his core. The blue-eyed boy bit down on his tongue and his pupils narrowed into sharp, shallow spheres._

_As the CEO continued to shoot through Joey, the blonde's focus shimmered and then became disjoining as the radius of his auras began bleeding black. The image of Kaiba's face became fuzzy and pixilated pin-needles of color vanished away, one by one until all that was left was an echo._

_Panicked and paralyzed, Joey's fingers frantically tightened around whatever surface of Kaiba they could find to grab hold of. Several stocky, yet strong, legs locked and then buckled, causing his knees to shake; sending out soft rippling patterns across Kaiba's pant legs._

_**I need to leave, I need to get the fuck out of here**, he screamed inwardly, but was too terrified to move on his own, and all of his stamina evaporated into a condensation of cold sweat along his forehead. The thought of Kaiba witnessing him only made it worse, and all that escaped the blonde was a soft whimpering noise._

**-.-.-.-**

"Panic Attack?"

"Indeed," the doctor re-affirmed, "A rather serious one too."

Joey gulped, "How serious?"

"Serious enough for you to loose consciousness."

"I can't remember anything."

"That's pretty normal," he shrugged, "Extreme emotional stress causes trauma that receptors block out mentally," he further explains in layman's terms.

"I don't know-ah-bout _mental _trauma," Joey shrugged, "But lately I've been feeling like I'm having heart attacks."

"Yes," the man nodded again professionally, "The symptoms of a panic attack, especially when severe enough, mirror those of cardiac arrest—the only difference is that there is no immediate threat or repercussion; the onset of anxiety is actually systematic of your body's natural coping process."

"Coping process? Could'ah fooled me!"

"Well, I don't think averaging nearly two-hundred beats per minute would comfort most people," he chuckled. "The process may be a somewhat healthy response to severe stress levels; however, anxieties that trigger such processes are quite the opposite."

"So, should I be worried?" Joey tried to come off slightly less unknowledgeable than he felt.

"Essentially, no." The man continued to skim the pamphlet on his clipboard, jotting an indistinguishable signature on the appropriate blanks. "There aren't any truly physical or lasting consequences, it is mostly a psychological condition. But if you're experiencing these episodes frequently, it wouldn't hurt to get it checked out, especially if you're falling out of consciousness."

"Well, what is the timeframe for 'frequently'?" He inquired, drawing parallels to his recent flare-ups.

"Let me put it this way," the doctor handed Joey his release forms, "The average person usually experiences a single panic attack during their whole life—and even then its not certain."

Joey's heartbeat fluttered apprehensively, counting at least six attacks in almost two weeks.

Before giving further instructions, the doctor detected the hesitancy sweeping over his patient's face, "I can refer you to someone if you'd like? I have some close friends in the profession, and they are exceptional at what they do."

"No, that's okay," Joey continued skimming the medical jargon in the paperwork nervously to distract himself. "You just need me to sign this right?"

Although reluctant, the man respected Joey's answer. "Yes," he flipped back and forth between the last few pages, "Here and here. Then you're free to leave at your leisure. Sound good?"

"Yeah," Joey reached forward for a pen, clicking it immediately in his palm.

_Seto's body was still pressed into Joey's, so hard that he could feel a heartbeat pulsating heat waves through him, but the raise in temperature went unnoticed to the clammy, quaking of the rigid ruby eyed teen._

"_I don't feel well," Joey staggered, inadvertently furrowing his fingers more tightly into the wrinkled sections of Seto's sleeves._

"_You're not even supposed to be hear," Kaiba hissed, thrusting the other boy's grip away effortlessly, "So I don't care if you're **dying** Wheeler!" he shook the incapacitated boy violently._

"Alright then," the doctor rubbed his hands together, "A nurse will be in shortly to collect that," he nodded, easing himself out the door. "Try and take it easy for awhile, okay?"

Joey's head nodded, but his eyes were still glued to the fine print, perusing the text with mild interest as he scribbled his name unfamiliarly in English. As his pen hovered over the remaining bullet points, the strokes of ink fell just short of the second line.

_The rise in temperature flung the mercury right through the glass ceiling of his internal thermostat. Adjusting to the forceful movements, Joey felt the alarming instability prickling over his skin, and the impact sent the boy's temperament off the charts, shooting the slippery, silver sphere out unpredictably._

_**.-*-.._-**~...~**-_..-*-.**_

Kaiba's eyes were red, swollen from the lack of sleep and the inability to achieve it. _This can't be happening_, he stirred a martini stressfully, propped up against the countertop, still in his pajamas despite the fact he'd never slept.

_As the boy beneath his gaze seemed to explode, Kaiba felt the metallic current role down in a petroleum wave, crashing against the surfaces of both his slender appendages. There was a startling thumping against his breast that beat out of rhythm and dangerously off pace. Kaiba's concern, although disdainful, grew stronger as he counted the heartbeats in Joey's pulse that accelerated continuously._

"_Seriously…" Joey faltered, resisting the forces of gravity that magnetically pulled him downward. "I…I don't feel right…"_

_**.**_

Although the strong blend of blackberry and vanilla vodka did little to ease Seto's painful expressions, allowing foreign emotions to penetrate his brain. _I wonder if he's okay,_ he considered thoughtfully, blinking back to Joey's body falling limply into his own. It was an awkward sensation that provoked these emotions, and an unfamiliar concern that occupied Kaiba's thoughts. He'd never seen Joey look so terrified, nor had he himself ever had to support another human being quite so literally.

_Reflexively curling his forearms, Kaiba caught onto the other boy whose body had gone limp and lifeless without warning. "Wheeler?" he asked frustrated, trying to stabilize and shake the blonde at the same time. "Come on, what the hell is the matter?"_

_Joey's body however, draped against Kaiba's motionlessly, leaving the rival in a rather conflicting position. Shifting his own weight to one hip, Kaiba steadied Joey into his shoulder, wrapping one arm under Joey's and around the boy's abdomen._

"Ugh," several fists slammed into the granite countertops, "Why the am I even still thinking about it!" he growled, sending the fragile glass to the side with a powerful thrust. The expensive liquor splashed thick pools of maroon into the carpet as shattered glass shards were sent in every direction.

"_Snap out of it," he demanded, using his free hand once again to move Joey's shoulder in attempts to wake him. The blonde's lips made faint, yet unproductive movements, allowing an incoherent muffle to escape before his neck dropped listlessly, and his forehead collided with Kaiba's chest._

_**.-*-.._-**~...~**-_..-*-.**_

The utensil in Joey's hand dropped down immediately, and the impact caused splattered black marks to form beneath the ballpoint. _They might as well just have put me out of my misery,_ he croaked, turning out his insides as he stared disbelievingly at the signature next to the admittance information.

_The brunette sighed angrily; **This is just what I need**. He balanced_

_Joey more carefully, digging through jacket pockets for his phone. **A stray dog**, he exhaled, pressing three numbers swiftly into play._

_Neon strobes of royal blue and cherry flashed in alternating patterns, casting colorful shadows onto Kaiba's face as he watched the paramedics secure Joey onto the stretcher._

Joey sighed, lying back down against the bed, _something tells me we're not in Kansas anymore. _He closed his eyelids, unable to erase the permanence of Seto Kaiba's name curving eloquently across the solid line.

-.-.-.-

***ah sorry this chapter is sort of choppy and sorta short, but it was kind of intentional to fit the disoriented thoughts, or lack there of, that Joey experiences. I'm working on the next chapter as we speak, so as a preview: Chapter Six: _Conflict of Interest_**


	6. Conflict of Interest

**Chapter Six: _Conflict of Interest_**

_Thump. Thump. Thump. There was a single line that illuminated throughout the room, peaking and plummeting faster than Kaiba could calculate. Thump. Thump. Thump._

_Pealing back his coat flaps, Kaiba peered inside and found his stomach had been hollowed. In the absence of his internal organs, there was a painful emptiness that beat bright blue and burgundy vibrations. Several shriveled valves were straining to swallow the solidifying serum as it quickly created a clot. _

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

_Organic compounds that once beat in his breast had now become swallowed in self-injected volatile matter. A syringe materialized between his fingers and Kaiba felt an undeniable alarm as it pierced his chest, sending the shrill, systematic sounds into a countdown around him. _

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

_Confused, he felt the space in his fingers reposition around a cold curvature. Several prongs gave way to a handle, crisscrossing at the middle to reveal a metal extension that bent inward on either side, forming a union between identical, inclining sharp angles. Magnetically, the instrument pulled towards the alternating red and blue cables that coiled through the convulsions, creating a series of cataclysmic cardiac calisthenics._

_Thumpthumpthumpthump._

_Like a ticking time bomb, there was an explosive hardwired throughout his heart. Several shaking appendages wavered unconfidently between wires, his mind was betraying his motions, and the indecision rendered his defeat. There was absolutely no surefire way to diffuse the sensation, and there were barely seconds on the clock. _

_Heart-lines shot back and forth irrepressibly, compressing into the size of a pin needle, there was a two second pause. Bursting forth in all directions, the detonation followed swiftly, and his heart broke in fragments that began to continuously reduce into dust, _

_Thump….Thump…..Thump_

_The symmetry of his heart was disfigured, and the very substance that framed his sensitivity was lost. There was a tragic tintinnabulation and Kaiba clenched his aching irises even more tightly. The noise invaded his pleading veins; the vibrations mocked him mercilessly, and his heart, although faintly, continued to beat. _

_A curious combination of water and salt slid like a serum from his lashes, and the wetness on his cheeks was something unfamiliar. Kaiba's fingers became flexible and he moved towards the liquescence pooling beneath his lids. Yet, he felt numb towards the currents, unable to match them to any emotion. _

_A soft voice resonated in place of the out of sight pulsations: "It's hard to feel, isn't it?"_

"_What's wrong with me?" His voice sounded involuntarily. _

_There was a cavalier chuckling, "Isn't that obvious?" The brunette's echo went mute, and the voice churned on caustically without reply, "You're heartless."_

"_That's…that's impossible…that means that I'm…I'm…"_

_"Dead?" A spitefully playful suggestion offered. "May as well be."_

"_Don't say that," Kaiba found his hands clamping down furiously over his ears. "I don't believe you."_

"_Then see for yourself," the rhythmic reverberations faded away. _

_Desperate for alleviation, uneasy eyes lingered through the darkness, yet he found no direction to follow. Suddenly, a hand of Duel Monster cards fanned out in front of his face, and the connection was uncharacteristically counterintuitive. _

"_Do you…want me to choose one…?"_

_He received no further instruction, nor could he strategize his selection. The cards suddenly rearranged like a keyboard beneath his feat, pressing down in various repetitions. A haunting melody chased the keys, dipping downward and upward like a tidal wave beneath him, overturning the hand to reveal images beneath. _

"_Swords of Revealing Light," the entity expressed pitifully, as three golden streaks of light fell around the boy's frame. _

_Each structure struck the ground like a tuning fork, and sound waves rippled outward from the ground. Separating from Seto, each set of rings stretched out in different directions. Traveling only a short distance, the rings overlapped, and the ripple-effect motions crashed like waves against the backs of three more cards. _

_Positioned horizontally, in front of him, the facedown cards flipped over. Kaiba wanted to protest that he had never played them, but the voice was quick to read his thoughts. _

"_You don't always choose your cards Kaiba," it reprimanded. "Rather, you hold the hand you've been dealt."_

_Slowly, the cards surfaced one by one, and the voice revealed the first calmly, "Monster Reborn."_

_The image in front of him began to take affect simultaneously as the card came to life. In the center he saw the facets of a precious ruby stone form. Standing opposite of the gem, the prison around him began to radiate off the smooth, surface until it reflected a scarlet symmetry back on Kaiba's breast. After the chasm etched the shape back between his ribs, Kaiba felt an alarming pressure. Simultaneously, as the unfamiliar sensation pulsated, the impression of the stone against the card began unfolding into an elegant pendent. As the shapes became fixed against the card and Kaiba in mirror images, both burst forth in a brilliant blue light, and the shock tore through his lungs._

_Gasping as the oxygen collided with his stomach, the breathe of life set his airways into an instinctive yet surreal series of motions. _

"_It's a funny thing isn't it? To come back from the dead." The voice encircled him, "So strange how easily we forget ourselves."_

_Lips trembled with innocence unfamiliar to Kaiba, anesthetized auras widened with hypersensitivity, but the inability to move under the pressure of the swords revealed quiet a condescending light. _

_His voice sputtered, but broke against the inconsistencies of the game before him. Leaving left Kaiba incapable of conceiving how the card had been played against him in the first place, all he managed was, "But…that's…."_

"_Against the rules?" The invisible source asked with endless amusement, "You of all people should know how easily rules can be broken." _

_Kaiba's frame seemed to shake and the vulnerability was almost completely out of body, "Why are you doing this to me…"_

"_Don't you know? You did this to yourself," and with that another card fell effortlessly face forward. _

_Oceanic tides beat forth restlessly against his lenses, and his body twitched helplessly at the sight of Mirror Force. Understanding now that the rules of play no longer applied, Kaiba's body braced itself to withstand the attack, knowing he had no choice whether or not it took affect. _

"_Relax," the voice scolded, "Mirror Force is only your second card, and you still have one left."_

_However these words did little to console him, and Kaiba felt an unpleasant jolt as shards of glass fell in puzzle pieces, systematically shifting from side to side until gravity pulled them into their counter part. As the glassy transparency began to take its shape, the light surrounding his incandescent prison bounced back and forth blindingly in an endless frequency. _

"_Hard to see yourself isn't it?" The sound seemed to breathe right into his ear, "Is it that you don't know what to look for?" the whisper rolled contemptuously through the boy's core, "Or are you just afraid of what you might find?"_

"_This isn't real!" Kaiba's vocal cords ripped through the air, "This isn't real! You're not real! Stop!"_

_Paying no attention to the desperate please that begged mercifully, the imperceptible entity continued to express itself unremorsefully. "And for your third and final card…"_

"_Please, please don't!" He cried out frantically. _

_But his words fell flat. "Light Force Sword."_

_The friction of words electrified apprehensively throughout Seto's locking limbs, but the swords of revealing light continued to restrain his movement. A swift sound shot through the air like a crossbow that shattered the pane of glass that separated him from the final blow. And as the mirror splintered, Kaiba felt the blade spear through his ribcage, pinning a fourth card against him. _

_Upon completing the third cycle, the light released the boy from preposition, and a sharp thumping sent his body screaming forwards as the card pinned to his chest bled black and blue. The divisions split him into both the embodiment and absence of light, and his face became imprinted into the card. _

_thump…thump….thump… "You are both a reflection and a shadow," the voice fell distantly into an echo…"don't let yourself disappear…" thump…thump…thump…."_

Suddenly Kaiba's entire body lurched forward in a cold sweat, heaving bewilderedly out against the air in his apartment that had gone stale. Feeling his chest rise and fall like a fifty pound weight, the brunette held the space on his breast where the sword had pierced him in his dream. Gripping his fingers involuntarily into the fabric of his shirt, he felt a small sense of reassurance after findings himself completely intact.

"It was just a dream," he forced out in between breaths, closing his eyes as his hand traveled up towards his forehead. A ring of perspiration has formed around his hairline, and the strands felt damp beneath his fingers.

_How ridiculous_, his fingers retracted from the beads of sweat that made his skin feel cold and clammy, thinking back to the contents of his dream. _What a stupid thing to dream about—Such an unrealistic concept, that would never happen._

Shaking his head, he scolded himself from having such thoughts, as if dreaming were something that he could control. It didn't matter how lucid it had all felt, because he refused to entertain such outlandish ideas; and it didn't matter how vividly _Change of Heart_ seemed to morph in and out of the blackness around him, because he was certainly not going to have one.

_Honestly_, he rolled his eyes, swinging his legs over his bedside when he noticed the numbers flashing hopelessly on the clock, _is Wheeler contagious or something? _ But the second the name even so much as entered his stream of conscious, Kaiba quickly shut himself off to it. As he moved elegantly across the room, he flicked a switch that flooded the room with light, and took seat on his couch.

Grabbing a fresh pack of cigarettes, along with an ashtray, Kaiba began to rub his nose between his thumb and forefinger—there was something about the heartbeats in his dream that continued to thump in his chest. As fingertips gently applied more pressure in circular motions, the boy released an unemotional sigh.

_Such a curious dream though_, the thought formed as he placed the carcinogen creation delicately between his lips, slowly singing the tip of the cigarette before he could hear the same ".thump" turning into the beeps on Joey's heart monitor.

The vibrations were something of a vicissitude, and the vital signs flashed a series of numbers in front of his eyes that Kaiba couldn't control.

_200…150….115….115…86…180….130….115…110…110…110…195…150…95…115…115_

Each number jumped from one to the other as Kaiba recalled with flawless accuracy each digit that Joey's vitals jumped alarmingly back and forth between. The memory summoned an equally uneasy wavering in his own pulse, as it dropped unexpectedly. Dragging his cigarette uneasily, doing his best to calm the unfamiliar motions of his memory, his thoughts were effortless against the prominence of the previous night.

_The beeping and chirping of the machine created an endlessly unsettling noise throughout the hospital room, and Kaiba sat discontent in a chair placed at the younger boy's bedside. With one leg crossed, and fingers stretching across his mouth, cupping under his chin to hold up his face, Kaiba's eyes fell despondently dim around the motionless blonde. _

"_He's going to be okay right?" Kaiba asked, not quite concerned, but far from insincerely. _

"_He should recover by the morning…." The man assured, but the only word the brunette made out was 'should.' "But something this extreme is terribly uncommon."_

_There was a pause between the men as aqua irises clouded with overcast emotions that beat as out of control as the sounds skyrocketing and plummeting across the monitor. _

"_How is it again you know each other?" the doctor next to him spoke._

_Such a direct question caught Kaiba off guard, so he twisted the truth, "We've known each other since high school," he offered, trying to dissuade the disgusted twist off his face, "so we go back pretty far."_

"_I see," the doctor replied, and much to Seto's gratitude, without questioning their relations further. _

"_Why may I ask is it relevant?" he acquired a more hostile tone. _

"_Because it is best that we contact someone in his immediate family," he flipped through some of Joey's paperwork, "but it seems his residency is fairly recent, and he doesn't have any emergency contacts. You wouldn't happen to know where we could reach them would you?"_

_Several eyebrows folded into a skeptical incline and Kaiba couldn't even elaborate—Joey's family? He'd never stopped to think about such a thing, nonetheless have known how to contact them. "No, I'm sorry I don't."_

_His words were met with a deep sigh, "That's too bad, this boy has got to be going through hell right now."_

The cigarette had burned down to the filter, a long stem of ash fell onto Kaiba's pants and he turned away from his thoughts disgustedly, focusing in on the dusty remnants soiling the silky fabric. _Disgusting_ he pulled the corner of his mouth into his cheek, carelessly dusting it away as he drew his eyes to a similarly discolored spot on his floor. He sighed again at the sight of burgundy stiffening his white carpet fibers, and then reached for a second cigarette, having only let his first burn.

Instinctively his mind began to erase the contents of the conversation that kept rewinding and fast-forwarding, but still there was an irregular convulsion that his heart beat anxiously back into his thoughts. _Is he going to be able to take care of himself? _A flood of uncharacteristic thoughts began to drown his logic; _I mean the mutt is helpless at best, completely pathetic, and totally incapable. _

Every thought sat solid and stationary, and not a single one of them would dissolve. These awkward concerns rang through his ears until he wasn't sure if they were still there, but his shifting stomach confirmed their presence. Several eyes slanted towards his planner, but the austere auras continued to ignore the address he'd recorded between the pages.

_Wheeler isn't my problem_, he smashed the end of his Marlboro against the bottom of his crystal ashtray, twisting it furiously beneath its fingers until it extinguished, _he never was and he never will be._

As logical as it seemed for the fatiguing exhaustion to render Joey into a recovery slumber, there was absolutely no way to keep his eyes closed. Every time he disappeared behind those pale lids, images of that pompous, self-absorbed prick tore through him like the dominating tyrant he was.

_Of all the people_, Joey crossed his arms in a fit, _why the __**fuck**__ did it have to be __**Kaiba?**_

Although what unsettled him more than knowing the executive had taken him to the hospital was not being able to remember why he would have had to. And even more disturbing than that, was why he'd bothered to do something so _considerate_ in the first place. The overlapping logic looped in unproductive circles, leaving Joey on the verge of another panic attack as the anger and anxiety spun into furious whirlwind behind his ribcage. Balancing a cigarette uncoordinatedly between his lips, he rang Sam before the sensation could uproot and leave behind a path of destruction.

Quick and timely as usual, she made an impeccably impressive arrival, carrying that deliciously transfixing aroma along with her. Sam wasted no time getting acquainted before she sat down, methodically preparing the bowl-they may have hardly known each other, but their interactions became familiar and routine.

Ever since they'd smoked the first time, Joey's lips lost all their hesitancy, and the words rolled off his tongue without thought. So similarly, as soon as the substance filtered into his blood stream, he tried unfathomably to convey what had happened.

"So," Sam's fingers brushed over his, reaching to remove the lighter, "You just woke up in the hospital, can't remember how, and some Ka…Ka…" ruby tinted eyes furrowed as she struggled to pronounce his name.

"Kaiba," Joey could hardly stomach saying it.

"Ohh yeah," she nodded, quickly taking her hit before continuing, "and some _Kaiba _dude who definitely lives in Japan," her eyes stared upwardly and decisively to herself, "And who definitely hates you, just coincidentally brought you there?"

Joey inhaled deeply, "Yeah, pretty much."

"I guess it was pretty nice of him to take you at all though," she offered, "I mean he didn't have to, right?"

"I already told you I don't remember," Joey stared forwards, his features going somewhat blank—_did he really have to?_

"Well, I don't think he sounds _that_ bad."

"He's a snake!" Joey's body pulled forward, "I've never met such a low life scum!"

Sam's already slanted eyes struggled to widen as they gazed back towards Joey's with surprise. "That's kind of harsh isn't it?" she asked.

"Not even," Joey rested back down comfortably, but a sharp twist wouldn't stop conjuring in his chest, "You've never looked at pure evil until you've locked eyes with Seto Kaiba."

She nudged him, "That's pretty descriptive for someone you can't stand to think about."

"Not really," he tried to shrug her words away carelessly.

She sensed his hesitancy immediately, "He really bothers you doesn't he?"

"Yeah," he swallowed hard.

"So don't let him."

"It's not that easy," Joey felt his eyes lower, pulling towards the empty space beside him.

"Sure it is," her elbows slanted, propping her body upwards, "Just stop thinking about him so much."

His stomach compressed tightly. "I can't help it."

And it was scary how true his words were becoming as thoughts of Kaiba became absolutely inescapable. Quickly consuming every centimeter of his brain, visions of the blue eyed brunette were manifesting manipulatively, and Joey was no longer sure what the hell it meant. Why couldn't he stop thinking about him? Why did he suddenly care so much where Kaiba was? His stomach twisted and tangled and he had an untamable urge to find him, to see his face—just so he had some sort of proof that this wasn't a dream. He had to know. He had to see him one more time, but didn't have the faintest idea where to start looking.

Unbeknownst to both duelists however, this strange sensation was mutual and equally disorienting as it became infectious, taking over almost every second of every day. It had only been a couple days since that night, but it had driven Kaiba to the brink of insanity and he would do anything to exonerate these protective emotions over the dog. He'd never admit it, but something about Joey had almost reminded him of himself—a part of himself that he'd buried and long since left to decay.

It was an unusually warm day in October that Monday, the sky was still, and the streets were as silent as the atmosphere that swallowed Kaiba's new residence. Usually an apartment full of movement, full of motivation and progress—it had been left in a sort of paralysis. Every floorboard creaked the sound of his name, every room seemed to inhabit his presence, and nobody could deny that Joey haunted every footstep that Kaiba took.

Sitting in front of his computer, trying both desperately, and in vain, to concentrate on work, but for the first time in along time even _that_ couldn't restrain him. For almost one hundred and forty consecutive hours—Joey's name, his face, and even his voice hadn't so much as temporarily escaped his grieving mind. _Fuck it_, Kaiba shook his head, _the sooner I get this out of my system—the sooner I can leave it behind me. _

In a somewhat similar daze, Joey was choosing to spend this lovely fall afternoon just like he'd spent the last days, and the days before that—locked away in his room with his mind lingering in realms his body wished he could go to. Laying with his back on his bed sheets, he stared ahead at the pain-chipping ceiling, tossing a baseball in the air above him, chanting Kaiba's name rhythmically to himself.

However, a synchronized set of chimes from the front door broke his concentration as it echoed endlessly down the hallway and into his room. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and trudged across the room, each foot coming down with so much deadweight that you could've heard him from the basement. His hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot—he hadn't slept the same in days.

Opening his door, Joey's stomach dropped. His face was a mixture of anticipation and confusion and his eyes were clouded as they lifted one way, and then the other. The older boy began to speculate, somewhat curiously, at the way dog systematically mapped back and forth between how to approach the situation. _Its almost instinctive_, Kaiba considered almost sarcastically, _and all this time I didn't know that Wheeler knew __**how**__ think._

"How did you…find me exactly?"

Kaiba's eyes absorbed the stupidity, "You still remember who you're talking to right?"

Joey sighed, "How could I forget."

Despite the instinctively defensive hand that was left positioned between them, Kaiba walked right in. Dropping his hand, Joey followed, "Come on in," he muttered," closing the door behind him.

**-.-.-.-.-**

"Well," Joey began blatantly, "What in gods name are you_ doing here?"_

Unexpected, Kaiba's optic radius reverted sharply to a much shorter range of contact. His mouth re-angled like he was about to execute, but his mind went completely blank. "Is that anyway to talk to your guest?"

"Shut up," Joey stared, more annoyed than angry.

Kaiba simply stared, sharply at the blonder, wearing a professionally perfected poker face of both purpose and disinterest

It only took about five seconds for the hesitation to take over Joey's tone though, as he averted meeting Kaiba's eyes, "So…why _are_ you here Kaiba?"

"Because I just can't sleep at night cause I'm _so_ worried," Kaiba's intonation fluttered acrimoniously before falling completely flat. "Why do you think? I wouldn't want to be suspected of animal cruelty, would I Wheeler? This is merely a legality."

Joey dragged his foot on the ground, feeling his cheeks blush faintly against the awkward silence that fell around them. "Why did you…" he fumbled, "…why did you sign those forms for me?"

"For the same reason I'm here now, you moron. I told you, this is a matter of liability; it's called a follow up."

"Well, I'm still standin' aint I Mr. Sophisticated?"

"Unfortunately," Kaiba smiled.

"Yeah, I know hah-hah," Joey rolled his eyes, "Don't you have something expensive to go do?"

"Lawsuits are expensive," Kaiba spoke with an unemotional and burdensome sigh. "And I don't feel like spending a single cent on you; so, I made this trip personally to see that my expectations are met."

"Really," Joey droned sarcastically, "I'm honored."

"Well you should be mutt."

"Well don't worry, I'm not going to sue you, now you can happily _leave_," Joey stressed.

"Oh, because I was certain you'd notify me if you were going to," the brunette's eyes rolled back.

Joey glared, but suddenly Kaiba's eyes seemed distracted, systematically scanning the space behind the blonde, and then refocusing directly around Joey himself. _He looks terrible_, the brunette observed pitifully as he noticed the deep, discolored indents below Joey's eyes and the tangled strands of hair that fell around them. At the same time, Joey felt an overwhelming disquietude, despite the fact Seto Kaiba had been singularly consuming his mind for the past few days, now that he was standing face to face with the brunette, Kaiba was the _last_ person Joey wanted to see.

As the third or fourth moment of silence rolled around, his heart thumped uncontrollably against his chest, and he felt terribly awkward feeling the concentrated intensity of those blue eyes falling on him immovably. The enduringly agonizing shifting in his stomach suddenly caused the onset of another panic attack to sting alarmingly in the blonde's chest and his stomach quivered weakly.

Terrified of what might happen if he allowed Kaiba to stay any longer, Joey sputtered helplessly, "Pl-please leave."

Ultramarine irises seemed to flinch at the request, but at the same time Kaiba assessed the space again quickly, taking note of the state of disarray Joey's apartment sat in—his bed was unmade and there were ashes everywhere; something that was almost too familiar to the brunette. He couldn't figure out why the sight had conjured a painful twisting in his heart and what the doctor had said to him shot through his head: _"that boy has got to be going through hell right now." _

"_Please_," Joey's voice shook, "Just please _go_."

"Fine," Seto's back stiffened and his tone went cold, but it wasn't Joey's please that changed his mind, it was the increasingly insufferable spasm in his stomach. "You're clearly still inconsiderably rude and defective, so I guess you really _are_ fine," And with that he turned sharply and slammed the door shut on his way out.

As soon as Kaiba left, Joey dropped to the floor and clutched the sharp prickling in his chest that made his heart sting and his arms feel numb. A wave of panic swept over him and it only provoked the attack to cycle. What he hadn't realized though, was that Kaiba still remained on the other side of his door, hearing the whimpering murmurs that escaped the blonde agonizingly. _Maybe I should go back inside_, he thought, but only for a minute before shaking his head, still disgusted with how sensitive he'd been becoming towards someone so insignificant. Yet as easily as he had finally turned away from Joey's apartment, those thoughts and those surfacing differences in how he felt were not so compliant.

Rushing his footsteps, nearly breaking into a sprint, Kaiba fled hastily down the lakefront, desperately trying to escape the restless waves that unsettled him so much. _Why did I do that? Why did I have to go there? _He shook his head with his eyes closed painfully; _this is exactly how I __**didn't**__ want to feel._ The dissatisfactory distress was almost too much for the boy to handle as thoughts of Joey's apartment continuously began to remind Kaiba of a much darker time in his own life. The connection way to personal, and he couldn't bring himself to empathize so easily with someone he despised with every inch of his being.

Finally back in the enclosure of his own apartment, Kaiba felt himself manically fixated on thoughts he knew neither how to express nor how to evade. Even the arrival of his magnificent piano couldn't dissuade the rush of emotions that were bursting through his subconscious; all he could see was that awful alarming look that encased those hazel lenses, distorting and disfiguring the spiteful yet playful confidence that defined their past interactions. _I know I'm supposed to hate him_, Kaiba twisted the class ring on his finger, quickly correcting his statement; _I mean I __**do **__hate him, but he just looked so pathetic._

"God damn it," he cursed in his native tongue, completely unsure how to translate the thoughts and emotions that, despite their existence, still held no emotional value. They were plaguing yet he felt no sincerity—they felt almost protective, but Kaiba's core convulsed contemptuously. Yet there was an unnerving empathy that caused memories of loneliness to surface, memories that Kaiba had not willingly revisited in years; but he knew the look on Joey's face all to well, and understood the plethora of ashes and empty cigarette packs even better then that. However, Kaiba had never taken kindly to showing emotion and so naturally it made him furious that he couldn't shake them.

More than anything he didn't fully understand how he could feel so responsible for making the mutt feel like that, or seeing the cuts and bruises around Joey's arms that he knew he had inflicted. _I don't like the kid, but that doesn't mean that I wanted to hurt him_, he thought over guiltily, unable to ignore the severity of how shaken up and wounded he'd left Wheeler. Playing the scenes over and over created a flash movie in his mind of the night at the piano bar, and his mouth wrinkled into pure repugnance with the realization that between the two of them, the only animal had been himself. Frowning dejectedly, he found himself face to face with his own reflection; and feelings of regret loomed over his shaky silhouette as everything and anything having to do with Joey intensified the pain and forced the remembrance upon the disillusioned boy.

Unexpectedly, Kaiba felt his fingers hovering over the keypad on his phone when thoughts of Joey transposed with the same awful pressure he felt inside his stomach whenever he imagined how terribly alone he'd left his brother. He knew it was late, but he hoped the child was still awake—the locket around his neck was suffocating him again and his brother was the only person he could turn to.

Troubled footsteps paced in circles around the carpet and he balanced his phone between his ear and his shoulder while he lit up a cigarette and nervously awaited the outcome of the phone call as the line continued to ring. Then there was a _click_, and Kaiba held his breath.

He could hear the child releasing a small, sleepy yawn as he spoke into the receiver groggily, "Hello?"

The noise hurt almost as much as the sound of Kaiba's voice as he whispered responsively, "Mokuba?"

"B-big brother?" his tone electrified eagerly, "Is that really you Seto?"

"Yeah," he closed his eyes, holding the locket tightly, "It-it's me."

"You never called me back," the voice lowered sadly.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't you miss me?" Mokuba's voice reflected the tears that must have prickled up.

The sound was slowly starting to break his brother's heart though, and Kaiba couldn't speak.

"Don't you love me anymore Seto?" The preteen sputtered and Kaiba could hear the tears sliding through the speaker.

"Of course I love you," his voice cracked.

"Why do you want to be so far away from me then?"

"I don't, I promise Mokuba, it's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" he pleaded.

"I'm just…going through some really personal stuff right now, and I needed to get away," the brunette struggled to convey himself emotionally.

"I thought you could talk to me about that stuff though?"

"This isn't something you should have to worry about Mokuba, you're too young."

"I am not!" He piped defensively.

"I didn't want to burden you," Kaiba replied warmly, wishing so badly that he could hug his brother right now.

The understanding reflected mutually in Mokuba's voice as the tears dried up and the child toughened up for his brother, "I know you didn't mean to hurt me, I just…" he trailed off, "I just wish you could have talked to me about it."

"I know, I just wanted to apologize," he spoke softly, but quickly changed the subject because he thought he might actually cry, "So how is everything? Are you okay?"

"I guess so," Mokuba spoke quietly, "I'm just lonely without you here."

"What about your friends?"

"I haven't really cared to see them much, but…"

"But what?" Kaiba asked curiously.

Mokuba hesitated, "but…I ran into Yugi a few days ago, and he's been trying really hard to cheer me up…please don't be angry though."

"I'm not angry," Seto spoke quietly, if anything he felt jealous.

"He's kind of going through something similar," Mokuba tried to justify.

This made Kaiba stiffen uncomfortably though, "How is that?"

"Well…I guess Joey left too…"

His chest thumped out of rhythm and he knew he'd regret it, but parted his lips anyways, "I know."

"You know?"

"I sort of…ran into him."

The conversation was all down hill after that and Kaiba continued to confide in his brother, rehashing the previous events between Joey and himself as Mokuba listened intently to what his brother had to say. Surprisingly, the child had responded to everything with wisdom way beyond his years, and nearly a week later and Kaiba still couldn't ignore the accuracy of his words: _"Well you can't just leave him like that Seto…you still remember how that feels, don't you?"_

Reminding Kaiba almost immediately of the hollowness that he refused to let anyone except his brother see, and an undeniable parallel was drawn between the similar manic state of emotions that he himself so often felt; and even more than that, the internal anguish of not having anyone around to even notice there was something wrong with him. So, against his better judgment, he found himself back where he started, as his fist fell hesitantly against Joey's front door.

"What? You again! I _thought_ we took care of this already."

"I'm not convinced, I'd like you to see a doctor."

"I did that at the hospital."

"No, a different kind of doctor."

"How would that make a difference? A doctor's a doctor.

"Wrong," Kaiba concluded the debate. "This is a psychological doctor."

"Oh, you're afraid I'm mental now too?" Kaiba began to open his mouth, and Joey interrupted, "Actually, don't answer that."

"Fine," Kaiba's eyes were still pierced despite the eerie smirk in his speech. "Now, I will arrange for them to conduct a cognitive analysis."

Joey's eyes budged, "Coduct…? Analysis…?" he repeated in confused fragments.

"Is the vocabulary too complex? Yes, a cognitive analysis."

"Isn't that a little involved for someone who doesn't care about me?"

Seto's eye twitched and he tried not to address Joey as spitefully as before—his compromise sounded apathetically. "No, just thorough. I'm not someone who leaves loose ends."

"Well, consider me all tied up!" Joey threw his hands up in mock-excitement.

"It's not a joke," Kaiba stared irascibly. "Lets go."

"I'll be fine! _Jesus_, just leave it alone Kaiba!"

"No!" He shouted angrily, "Two-hundred beats-per-minute is not something you ignore," the specificity threw Joey into a blank fascination, "It's abnormal," the brunette expertly redirected his intentions, "They'll have my phone number on record if anything were to happen—and I don't need them calling me."

"Why would they call you?"

"I'm listed as your emergency contact."

"Why the hell would you do that!" Joey asked horrified.

And Kaiba seemed to pause and almost stumble, "I-it's irrelevant now. It-its just procedure Wheeler, stop arguing with me."

"Well, fine!" the boy exclaimed, "I wont argue—cause I'm _not_ going."

"Wheeler—I'm not giving you a choice," he stepped intimidating forward.

"And if I don't cooperate, Rich Boy? Ya'gona call security?"

Piercing his eyes, Seto stepped into Joey without warning, leaning his face in close to the blonde, who was boxed in against the table. "No," his voice produced scolding spurts of air, "If you resist, I'll take you by force."

A disorienting sensation of déjà-vu jumpstarted inside Joey's chest that was now thumping; wide, childlike eyes stared subliminally, as Joey's strength had been synthetically subdued into submission. Equally aware, but undeniably in control, Seto remained unmoved, his eyes were restraining, and he was tactfully emitting slightly audible sounds in his soft, yet forceful breathing. "Understood?" The brunette whispered, and the feverous rush of words fogged against Joey's hazel lenses, melting into menthol and spearmint against Joey's taste buds when he parted his lips to respond. Kaiba's eyes narrowed to the movement, and a flawless face of porcelain features closed the space between them to ensure the answer he received was the right one. Spastic movements slipped through the other boy, and Joey spurted a stifled noise when his heart skipped a beat.

"Wheeler?" The transcendent tone was eerily eloquent, producing the affect of nails on a chalkboard.

Joey shivered, "Y-yes, Kaiba."

Several moistened lips slanted in satisfaction, and Kaiba wore a devilish grin. "That's a good boy."

Joey's stomach lurched before rolling over into his chest, "Yes Kaiba," the boy repeated, keeping perfect eye contact with Seto's mouth; they were hardly centimeters between them.

Kaiba retracted his body and walked straight to the front door, turning back his eyes to Joey. "Come."

Joey's body responded to the command even though the surfacing sensations made him resistant, feeling the distance between them acting like an invisible leash that yanked his body forwards with Kaiba's every movement.

**-.-.-.-.-**

**okay, lol well i'm sort of disappointed with how this chapter turned out, but on a better note, this is when their interaction is _finally_ set into motion-so expect much more interesting chapters :) lol i understand this isn't the most conventional fanfic in the world, but like i said-go easy on me it's my first one, and i've never written anything like this before. please review ^_^**


	7. Subject to Change

**Chapter Seven:_ Subject To Change_**

"Insurance Wheeler," Kaiba held an open palm sideways.

"What?"

Kaiba glanced to see his hand empty. "Health insurance-" he prompted his hand again, "You do have _health insurance_ don't you?"

Joey's ears felt hot, was he supposed to?

"Silly me," Kaiba sighed, pulling out a slender, black wallet. "I should have known better than to even ask," he conclusively rolled his eyes before completing the necessary paperwork with diligence and efficiency.

"Sit." Kaiba turned, pointing to a chair. "Stay," he said again, and then continued towards the exit.

"Hey!" Joey stood back up, "You're not even gonna wait for me?"

Kaiba stopped, clearly annoyed, "Do I look like a babysitter?"

"Well, this was _your_ idea," Joey's eyes rolled, "So, maybe _you_ should stay, and _I'll_ leave."

"This is your appointment, not mine," Kaiba shrugged simply. "Now grow up and sit down, you're embarrassing yourself."

Joey's entire face burned red as he watched Kaiba's back disappear into the hallway. After pushing his sleeves up, he was about to follow when his name came from the other direction.

"Mr. Wheeler?"

The boy paused, still seriously contemplating leaving, but then something that Kaiba had said struck him. _"What are you complaining about? It's a win/win. Neither of us will be at risk for future complications."_

"Mr. Wheeler?" The secretary asked a second time.

Joey forced himself to turn around. "Yeah, sorry. That's me."

He followed the woman as she led him through another doorway to the side of her desk, and down a hallway with six doorways. Joey's pulse quickened with each footstep, and Serenity's words beat in unison with Seto's. _"Joey…have you thought about going to see to someone?" _Although he felt nauseous and uneasy, Joey passed the mahogany name plaque, on the fifth door that read: **Doctor Nguyen**_._ _I guess its not a total waste to make sure_, he decided, growing less hostile towards participating. _But I'm only doing it for my sister, to hell with Kaiba._

After adjusting a first time, Joey began continuously to fidget against the jade armchair, squeaking as he tried to occupy the space. All the while, his eyes fell around the room, which was aligned with bookshelves that matched the mahogany on the door. The shelves seemed suffocated from end to end with alternating bindings; and yet, the weight didn't sink the boards downward. Something about the sense of balance made Joey's breathing easier.

He expected there to be a prominent desk facing him as a bisector between patient and professional, something like he imagined Kaiba would have in _his_ office to isolate him from the undeserving. Yet, there was only another armchair adjacent to where he sat, almost identically positioned with a small coffee table to the side of it. The atmosphere had a curious effect, both reassuring and bothering his expectancy.

At that moment, the door hinges creaked open, and Joey was drawn to a middle-aged gentleman with chestnut colored hair, and watery, wild-blue eyes. He shuffled into the room quietly, and took a seat in the empty chair. Then, after neatly placing one leg over his other, he folded his fingers politely on his lap, and smiled in Joey's direction. The boy was about to start drawing unpleasant parallels between the doctor and Kaiba when his ears picked up on a curiously familiar vernacular.

"Good'ay Mate," The man initiated energetically, "Th'name is Doc-tah Nguyen. And who mi'ght-chu be?"

Joey's first instinct was to burst out laughing, unable to stop picturing Valon across from him, ready to engage Joey about his thoughts and feelings. _I wonder if Alistair and Rafael are down the hall?_ Joey thought humorously, but he answered respectively, and a little rigid. "Uhm, I'm Joey."

"Ver'y well Joey! Nice t'ah make your acquaintance, see ya' here for a cognitive analysis?"

"If that's what it says," Joey rolled his shoulders.

"Well, is it, or isn't it? Don't wan'a put ya' through the wrong ring-ah," he said lightheartedly.

"I mean, I guess so," he offered with as little conviction as the first response.

"C'mon now mate, there's no need'tah be embarrassed—I'm start'en tah guess this is'ah someone else's idea?"

Joey glanced upward, slightly shocked that the man could know that from spending all but thirty seconds with him. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

The Aussie released another pleasant chuckle that continued to diffuse the tension. "Trus'me it's not uncommon to see mate. I'mean who honestly jumps at tha' opportunity to spend an'hour with a total strange-ah?"

Joey smiled, "I guess ya' got me doc.—who?"

"Far less than you think," he smiled again before reaching to retrieve a black, leather with a clean legal pad inside. "It's very natural to feel unreceptively towards therapeutic console, especially at the request of anoth-ah person. Sometimes," his hands moved theatrically about, "We feel threatened or offended by the idea of therapy, which causes us to assume it's a matter of incompetence or inability."

"Yeah," Joey agreed sheepishly with out thinking, "That's kinda exactly how it feels."

"Well, don't let it friend! The upside to not knowing me is that you have the freedom to speak openly, knowing whatever you tell me wont ever backfire, and strictly confidential."

"Y'mean you can't tell anyone?" Joey thought reflexively to Kaiba.

"That's right. Not one person. No, exceptions."

A sudden easiness melted Joey into his seat, "So, where do we start?"

Yet, there is an old saying about confidentiality, and although the boys remained emotionally estranged, they were far from dead. So nothing was truly secure, and neither of them was safe.

Under any other circumstances this would have been mindless, _it should be mindless_, he argued against himself, but the truth was, it was consuming him. So, like everything else in his life—he buried it. Kaiba tried everything and anything to suffocate the sound of that awful _thumping_, but it was inescapable; every key his fingers fell upon played the palpitations perfectly, and even when he couldn't hear it, he could feel it beating against the rhythm of his own.

Joey, on the other hand, had never really acquired such an ability—his thoughts were automatic. Even if his visit with Doctor Nyugen **had** eased his mind, it was only a temporary solution, and it brought out the darkest of his thoughts once the session subsided. For the first time since Joey left home, that agonizing silence left over from Tristan's unresponsiveness ate away at him, the heartfelt words from Tea felt like a stone in his chest, the tremor in Yugi's tone shook his frame, and remembering Serenity made him cry uncontrollably. He never even told her—he never even said goodbye—not until it was already too late, and he was miles away. _What kind of person leaves their baby sister all alone?_

Joey sniffled, trying not to make a scene as he made his way down to the park bench he'd begun to visit religiously. _I just left her_, he collapsed into the cold, metal arms on either side that extended too far to embrace him. _Just like Mai, it's happening all over again._ But the rhythmic currents already joined the repetitions in his chest, and both the currents and cardiac collisions numbed him.

Staring straight ahead, he cast his thoughts in bottles, watching the waves toss them about, but they bobbed up and down, never sinking. The delicate colored glass sealed air-tight secrets, and the buoyancy kept them afloat. Each vessel contained a memory, a personalized scroll for each and every person he'd ever lost; but ironically, the only person he wished to cast away, was himself.

However, it was the glimmering reflections of scintillating shades of blue that refused to let Joey disappear, and even though it swallowed the rhythm of his heart, Joey wanted it to stay that way forever. Confusing and conflicting, the notion made no sense, but it surrounded the boy, it subdued his senses, and it spiraled one particular memory endlessly. Just like the peaceful misery of Lake Michigan's meandering measures, it was a motion he couldn't refuse.

It was almost identical to the steady strides that sang every syllable Kaiba couldn't bring himself to speak; the sounds unsettled him, but at the same time they were constant—they were calming. However, the subject was insulting, so the piece itself was choppy, and Kaiba played off pace. No matter how precisely he attempted to perfect it, this was simply something he couldn't define.

It had only been a week, but something, somewhere on the shadowy seafloor of his sunken, cerulean eyes was cracking. It was too unfamiliar for Kaiba to address, he'd already gone as far as to call the doctor's office, but felt powerless with how effortlessly the receptionist refused him. His name didn't mean anything here, but deep down he knew it never belonged to him anyways; and suddenly, that crack became a cavern, hollow, hidden, and hard to navigate. Kaiba continued blindly to find closure—but whether it was direct or vicarious, the truth was confidential, and the absence made the boy's skin feel cold. Bright, fluid auras of brilliant aquamarine froze into icicles—transparent, but sharp; sturdy, but waiting to break.

"_Have you thought about just calling him?" Mokuba inquired blatantly._

_ "What? Why would I do that?"_

_ "Ohh, **I don't know."**_

_"You know I don't like when you talk sarcastically to me," the brunette scoffed in order to avoid the subject._

_ "No," the younger Kaiba stated, "You just don't like admitting that you're starting to care."_

Their conversation didn't last that much longer, but it ended on a good note; which was more than Kaiba could say for his overactive thoughts—thoughts which began to isolate any direct connection between Joey and himself. If they were estranged, then it discredited any emotional investment, and kept it from manifesting into something it wasn't.

"I hate him," Kaiba spoke allowed, balling his fingers into an unconfident fist, repeating the statement of malice as if it were a mantra; the words, however, fell flat under every echo which, although eloquent, were completely empty. And as the ice began to melt against the rounded, hazel halos, Kaiba slammed the lid shut, casting another cold front that froze sight and sound within the arctic frost.

Inhaling until the air filled his frame, Joey felt an equally icy aftertaste in the breeze. The sky was burning out, and the scattered shards of light were fracturing, casting a thin shadowy veil over the reflective surface. _Why this? _His eyes narrowed into delicate semi-circles, "Why _you_," the next words fluttered unexpectedly into the atmosphere, and Joey's anxieties were almost arousing, "I don't even like you," he swallowed his heartbeat, but he felt Kaiba so differently now, and Joey took an unprecedented chance.

-.-.-.-.-

**_Thanks for the reviews you guys :D, my apologies for the delay-lol its been a rough couple of weeks-and I was just recently diagnosed with a bipolar [type 2] disorder-haha, kind of explains the dramatic extremes my story has been flip-flopping between lately! In light of this though, i've had to stop taking one of my medications, which was a stimulant, because it was making it worse-so it's sort of hard to gather my thoughts naturally again. However, I hope it doesn't take away from the writing too much-although its a tad disorganized. _**


	8. A Deal with the Devil

**Chapter Eight: _A Deal with the Devil._**

Even though he felt the rivalry burn in every centimeter of his stomach as the muscles contracted involuntarily from the scares the brunette had unknowingly left, all Joey could see were the cobalt currents that had encased him the day the sky fell down.

He had sworn to himself again and again that he had over-thought the sequence of the oricalchos falling down around their souls, _I mean hell, we'd just been trapped Ancient-Egypt-Style in stone slabs by fucking Milo Thatcher—like what was this? Atlantis? _Joey's eyes bulged, _Of course I was disoriented, I lost my fucking soul to the Crocodile Hunter, _he shook his head absurdly; somewhat evidently to avoid admitting it had been the other way around, because he couldn't bear to admit that he'd sacrificed his soul for _her_.

Except he knew he was lying to himself, because in a lot of ways he brought the subject to attention anyways by telling himself NOT to think about it. But it was confusing whenever he felt the pain of Mai being stolen straight from his life, because it was Kaiba's face that he tried to blink away. _Whatever, it was probably nothing at all anyways,_ Joey tried again to excuse it, _at least I had a soul to recover in the first place, Kaiba was probably just running low on batteries, _he rolled his eyes at his exaggeration, but the robotic motions that usually entertained him just drew the brunette more deeply into his thoughts.

_I mean, he's the last person I thought would care if I chose to go back or not; if anything, I was surprised that Roland hadn't already arrived and set up a 'Going Away' celebration. _He heaved a deep sigh, continuing to follow the directions scribbled on the back of his hand. It was no use, even he knew that he was exaggerating to overcompensate for the fact he preferred to see Kaiba as inhuman, but there was definitely a heartbeat behind the way the brunette's eyes opened eclectically, widening into such transfixing spheres that were unfamiliar in comparison to the condescending, cat-like slits that so often watched him. Kaiba had willingly exposed his features towards Joey, and Joey specifically, and they were not secretive or sharp, they cast child like vibrancies of blue that clouded with the kind of concern he expected from Mokuba, but never his brother. _He's never really looked at me, _Joey felt the intensity of Kaiba's mysteriously compelling, yet enigmatic eyes fall over him in contrasting shades of dark and bright blue, _not through his actual eyes at least._

Not that he really cared to analyze the intricate waves that seemed to change their color, but he was usually pretty good at noticing little things about people. The fact that he'd known Kaiba for years though, and never noticed that several shades of blue occupied his lenses made Joey sort of sad. The way those auras were ringed with multi-colored layers made Joey think about how many title waves had beat such shallow puddles down into the oceanic depths that swallowed his attention in one effortless gulp, becoming trapped within the hypnotic holds of the darkening spectrum.

I guess he didn't really know anything about Kaiba's personal life, besides that he and Mokuba were adopted, but Joey had always disregarded becoming Bill Gates overnight as a "hardship," and so he never really put much consideration into the words he spat back. Wondering now if any of them had ever gotten farther than the surface level as the unique coloration processed and recorded the information. Except he doubted it, because Kaiba had always gone out of his way to be an ass, so it was certainly not like he couldn't interact with people, he just never did it nicely unless it concerned something important.

He almost kicked himself for the comparison, but he really did feel sort of unworthy, and somewhat jealous, of how Kaiba's eyes looked like a pure bred husky, and his own were mangy and inconsistent, like the mix breed Kaiba always addressed him as. He wondered how dull he must look to eyes that can tear right through people, or how powerless and dark. Joey actually sort of envied that Kaiba's gaze said everything and yet absolutely nothing with such intimidation, and as usual, under his unhindered confidence and control.

Joey sighed, he used to like that his eyes were darker, so that nobody knew the anxieties that emptied them, but now he couldn't stop thinking about helpless it looked to Kaiba. It was an awful feeling that stirred, and he degraded his own qualities now without the brunette there to amuse himself with his insults that were always so cavalier and perfectly timed. He wondered if the other boy knew that what Joey was really hiding form behind smoke screens was _him. _I mean, his own father didn't make him feel a worthless as Kaiba could; the brunette could ruin his whole day with one word, and Joey felt an awkward dependency form around these controversial memories as they transposed with whatever did or didn't happen the night they discovered they were living in the same place.

Whatever terrible twist had fated this was something so cruel and unusual that Joey referenced it as _Kaiba Karma_, a term he'd coined years ago as the only possible reason these awful interactions always surfaced when he did nothing to provoke them. This whole thing was like a bad reunion spin off, Joey was the immature flunky and Kaiba was the valedictorian mastermind, and as much as it hurt to remind himself, replaying their dedicated rivalry, like a marathon in his head, was the only way Joey felt significant, leaning subconsciously towards someone he'd never had a real conversation with, but who had confirmed in a single night, without his recollection, that Joey wasn't capable of taking care of himself.

After a week of trying to write it off, his tactics had proved useless; somehow Seto Kaiba had surfaced in the exact same town as Joey—which meant they'd both left home around the same time. So no matter how much Kaiba insulted or disregarded things like fate when they were in public, there was no way in hell that this was a coincidence. _It has to mean __**something,**_he trailed hesitantly up the steps, _because __**he**__ came and checked on __**me**__. He took me to get __**help**__, _Joey shook his head confusedly at the fact Seto Kaiba had paid his medical bills under no real obligation, because the brunette knew that Joey couldn't have afforded a lawyer to sue him in the first place, and Kaiba knew he didn't have the balls to try and take him to court. _So there has to be a reason, because it doesn't make any fucking sense,_ Joey thought agitatedly, letting his fist fall against the door; he needed someone right now, and whether or not it was canon—they had a history. And without Duel Monsters to drive the competitive wedge between them, there really wasn't any reason for them to be so resentful, because besides in competition, they had never spoken, let alone done anything to offend the other so vindictively—and Joey couldn't help but hope that maybe Kaiba was as lonely as he was right now.

Balancing a conference call between his ear and his shoulder, Kaiba was struggling to light up a cigarette when his door vibrated. "_M-th-r fu-k-r,_" he mumbled incoherently, pulling the object from between his lips, hoping no one else on the call had heard.

"Mr. Kaiba?"

"Yes, I'm still here," the brunette spoke accordingly, fastening his robe around his torso while he approached the door in agitation, wondering who the hell could have been looking for him at this time of night.

On the opposite side, Joey's chest pounded and his hands felt clammy, he was nervous as hell. Not to mention his 'plan,' in its entirely, was so impulsive, that he never even thought of what to say. There was a soft creaking, and the knob twisted.

"Listen Rob, I'm going to have to call you back," the executive clicked off the call, staring at the blonde unpredictably.

"Uhm, hi?" Joey asked awkwardly, trying not to stare at the toned patch of flesh exposed between the loose fitting terrycloth.

"Didn't you read the sign in the lobby Wheeler? No animals allowed."

The uncouth banter sparked a little of Joey's confidence as he grinned, "Y'know I was wondering if you put that up just for me."

Blue eyes rolled back, "Just get inside before someone sees you."

-.-.-

"Evicted already?" Seto entertained sarcastically once the blonde was inside.

"Wouldn't you love that," Joey replied.

"Did you follow me home or something?" Kaiba redirected with a risen eyebrow.

"I didn't have to," his lips pulled into a side grin, "you took care of that for me when you signed off as my emergency contact."

"So where's the fire?" the brunette turned towards the living room disinterestedly.

"Aren't you a stand up citizen," Joey followed sarcastically.

Kaiba ignored the remark, folding one leg over the other, "Will you please tell me why in god's name you're in my apartment right now?"

"I wanted to see you," Joey's eyes looked up innocently.

"You wanted… to see me?"

"Well, yeah."

"Why?" his face fluctuated uncertainly.

"Because we're both in the same situation right now, and I think you need this," Joey's response left his lips before he had the chance to think how concerned it sounded.

"So, why would I need _you_?" he stared confused, trying to rationalize the situation.

"I don't know, maybe because you don't have any friends?"

"So?" Kaiba glared, not reacting to the sadness he really felt at that moment.

"So," Joey stammered quietly, "You're alone."

"You're always alone," Kaiba generalized, "It's natural."

"How is that natural?"

Kaiba was both intrigued and offset by Joey's inclusive nature. To be honest, he'd never thought of himself as "belonging" to anything. He understood that reality was not sugarcoated, that the word was cruel and imbalanced, "Because all you have is yourself Wheeler, when it comes down to it, that's all you ever have." Bad things happened to make you stronger, and Kaiba wasn't used to this inability of control that caused those same things to weaken his defenses, unsure of how Joey could stand in his apartment, after everything, and still try to extend his hand. "Relationships complicate everything."

"So does being alone," Joey countered.

"Maybe for people like you," Kaiba stuck his nose up prominently, "I'm too busy to concern myself with such frivolity."

"I think we both know that's a lie."

"And I think you should learn to hold your tongue."

Joey's eyes pierced, "You know Kaiba, that's your problem," the words struck his adversary, "you don't listen to anyone."

"Because I don't need to, I don't need to listen—I'm the one giving orders," he folded his arms, "I make my own rules. It's the only way to ensure everything goes accordingly, which is why I can't even conceive what set you're following right now."

"Cause there aren't any to follow," Joey leaned forward, propped against his knees, "Don't you get it? Life isn't a business deal Kaiba."

"Correction, my life _is_ business, " Kaiba systematically argued. "They are identical in every aspect, every day has its own agenda, and every conversation is a negotiation. Your decisions are like deals that risk or wage success, and financial security is a measure of achievement."

"And just when I think you can't get anymore shallow," Joey sighed.

Kaiba sounded almost offended, "I'm not shallow. I'm just not insecure, so I don't need _anything_."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Joey shrugged.

The motions perturbed the executive, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I thought you knew everything?" Joey replied provokingly.

Seto huffed, "If you came here just to play games Wheeler, then the door is still where you left it. I don't have time for this."

"See!" Joey exclaimed, "You can't even spend ten seconds with someone without losing your temper. So maybe you've got everyone else fooled, but don't bullshit a bullshitter—I don't think you're half as confident as you pretend to be."

"You forget your place dog. You have no room to be condescending, me—insecure? Look who's talking."

"Yeah, maybe I don't have a fancy ass house to hide behind," Joey spoke resentfully, "But you said security is material—if that's true then you're set right? So why are you _here?" _he accused, "Why run away from all your accomplishments?"

The brunette's posture stiffened, and Joey didn't quite know what it meant when he didn't say anything back. Instead, staring directly into Joey's eyes, Kaiba felt his sight straying absently. _This isn't his style,_ Joey noted; such a silence was like an unchartered realm to the blonde, an untouched area that instantly became open for interpretation. He was unable to gather his own thoughts long enough to establish an opinion, but the emptiness was _something_, and to Joey, it did not go unnoticed.

Clearing his throat, Joey sought to take an incredibly pivotal risk, but he couldn't go back to being alone. "I have a proposition for you."

The disoriented duelist regained his situational awareness and Kaiba's confused eyes refocused. "What?"

"You said it yourself, life is like running a business, right?" Joey asked hypothetically, "And I'm cutting you a deal."

Kaiba's nose furrowed, "_Proposing_," he corrected, "You're _proposing_ a deal. You can't cut a deal unless you have an advantage over the competition."

"_Whatever_," Joey sighed. "Now let me finish, this is a presentation, not a negotiation. Honestly, where are your business ethics now?"

The brunette scoffed and folded his arms tightly while his brain became calculative and strategic as it switched into a mode of professionalism. "I'm listening."

"Well, I _propose_," he intentionally emphasized out of spite, "That we spend a week together, and if after one week you can prove to me that someone else can't make the _slightest_ difference, then I promise I will leave you alone."

"Offer rejected."

"Why?"

Kaiba's eyes narrowed, "It's the first rule of business, never accept what you can't gain from."

"Nice try smart ass," Joey's lips curled up, "You can't know that if you never tried it before."

"Call it intuition Wheeler."

Joey sighed, "Okay fine, I understand Kaiba, if you can't handle that type of commitment then you could've said so." Joey turned to leave coaxingly, "I mean, it's not your fault that you're too scared to take a chance, but I never thought The Great Seto Kaiba was such a coward." Joey shrugged again thoughtfully, "I guess I'd do the same if I knew I'd lose."

The hairs on the back of Seto's neck prickled. "What did you say to me?"

Joey turned around disinterested, "I said that'd you'd _lose_."

Kaiba's entire face burst into a fit of rage, "I _never_ lose."

"Prove it."

"I plan to!"

"Then I can count on seeing you tomorrow?"

"You can count on having your ass handed to you is what you can count on Wheeler."

"Let the game begin." Joey closed the door behind him, relishing in such an unprecedented victory_. Hook line and sinker, _he smiled triumphantly. Who that knew that to hunt down the top of the foot chain, all you had to do was tie the bait to a tree.

_That was easy_. _**Too**__ easy, _Joey thought intriguingly, _What are you hiding behind that mask Kaiba?_ The wind blew curiously along the lakefront as the blonde tried to fathom the extent of how far he'd taken this discovery. Seto Kaiba was the last person Joey every wanted to think about, but he was the only thing that came to mind. He continued to saunter down the inclining meanders of grass and concrete, watching as the powerful gusts tossed the still, watery surface about. As powerfully as the currents resisted, the wind persistently threw them off course. With this new trial run in place, the duelists decidedly embarked on an uncertain sea. They were no longer game masters, but Captains, trying to navigate through a temperamental territory. The tides were restless and the glittering surface disguised the depths that they were now at the mercy of. Traveling in separate vessels, both boys had composed a crew of different strengths, testing and challenging the undertow in order to keep the baggage they harbored afloat. Joey came from the east, raising his mast to the prospects of exploration, while Kaiba wearily wandered from the west with his anchor still dragging below, unwilling to trust where the waters would take him. They positioned themselves with alternating expectations, but they're destination would be the same.

-.-.-

**lol sorry for the run-on sentences! And as usual, please review :) I'm working on the next chapter right now, and feedback is always appreciated. **


	9. Interactions and Collisions

_**OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS! It has literally been forever and a day since I've posted anything for this story. However, since its a present to my sister, I really wanted to try and finish it, plus I promised not to abandon the project. Also, I've been writing a lot more for this story recently, so if I get reviews I can push through some more consistent updates :) Hopefully some people are still checking this out, and thanks to any and all new faces that came during my leave of absence. life was a little crazy this last year, but I'm finally better and writing again. Hopefully you guys like it!**_

**-.-.-.-.**

**Chapter Nine:_ Interactions and Collisions. _**

Kaiba stared unflinching at the front door, feeling the in sync flutter of his lashes against each other, as the echoing of Joey's footfalls grew more and more faint. The cigarette that he'd previously been struggling to light now sat stunted and extinguished under an unbroken inch of ash, and the stale, bitter scent wrinkled the CEO's nose distastefully. Somewhere in the back of his thoughts he was still trying to retrace how he'd begun a negotiation with his CFO, in regards to an over sea's shareholder, who they had been courting for months, with this big investment deal—only to find _himself _the one courted after unknowingly settling upon Joey's terms of agreement. He was dizzy and feeling just a little sick as his thumb and forefinger rose to the bridge of his nose. _I needed to secure our sales for this quarter, _Kaiba grumbled, _not a new friend to play with._

In truth, the company was starting to slip up without his presence there to re-enforce the work environment, but there was little and less he could do about it from here. Still, however, there was admittedly some sort of spark left behind from this latest development. It lingered almost nostalgically, if you will, even long after the length of hallway outside his door had grown silent. It wasn't like him to put something as fruitless as Joey in front of his livelihood; and yet here he found himself sliding shamelessly back into his oldest rivalry. _He certainly hasn't changed a bit_, his regarded: Outspoken, overconfident, and too quick to ever realize that Seto was already two steps ahead. Albeit, he himself was getting a little rusty, but what better way to sharpen his edges back up than with a little practice? That's all Joey ever really was, right? –Just practice.

_Wheeler may be feeling high and mighty_ he dismissed the lingering suspicion of inferiority, _but I wouldn't expect anything less from someone who thinks they've already won._ In that instant though, a dull wave of heat flashed across his face, and his mental monitoring system played back Joey's closing argument. _"If you can't handle that type of commitment then you could've just said so. I mean, its not your fault that you're too scared to take a chance, but I never thought the Great Seto Kaiba was such a coward…"_ The cool, cocky, confidence of that infamous lazy smirk had caused his blood to boil, but in the end the blonde had done nothing more than provoke him—and that was the point, wasn't it? You couldn't practice until you found a fight, and what better use could the CEO have for this uncertainty than to twist it and give it shape?

It was certainly far from the solution he'd set out to find, but it became his only solution the second Joey stepped through the door. _Business is doing well enough to take a hit; _he reassessed spreadsheets of their numbers in his head. _I'll let Rob handle this one; he's twice my age but doesn't have even half my experience. It will be a good move for the company_ he decided strategically,_ and an even better move for me…._

"I do need this," the brunette sighed after contemplating Joey's accusations unwillingly; but the other boy had not been so far off from the truth. Kaiba was as bored as he was friendless, but it wasn't the latter that concerned him; no, he had come into this world alone and he'd always known he would leave in the same way. The former however had been as infectious as madness—yet now, here was Wheeler, clear as day, offering Seto a cure. This perfect outlet to remedy the spark in his chest, and channel the flow of electricity onto a conductor; and he could think of no better opponent than the one he'd been through the most with. Yugi was always acclaimed as his rival, but he'd earned such titles only by association. Those losses served merely as black and purple bruises on the CEO's ego, but every reoccurring duel with Joey was like a fist crashing into his face and left the taste of blood in-between his teeth. He reigned victorious practically by default, but then there was Joey again, standing in his way like he always was. There had never been any humility or advantage to their duels, so why did Kaiba always find himself agreeing to them?

Even half a world away, and it _still_ wasn't far enough to change that fact. The game was foreign, but the brunette accepted it all the same. There was just something about it, something nostalgic that withdrew his hesitation to proceed. Perhaps it was the evidence of how dramatically ironic their chanced collision was that was lulling Seto back down into himself, but Kaiba knew better than to believe that.

He was just too smart not to see through such obvious lies—even the ones he told to himself; but that knowledge he'd acquired came with a price, and the price of ignorance had cost Kaiba the chance of bliss. It was too funny, really, whenever he stopped to think about it—because he'd spent a lifetime running away from what would always be apart of him: The Truth. By itself, it almost sounds innocent, but once you took a bite, you were bound to it. The consequence of knowing was like being permanently indebted to acknowledgement, and Seto had never forgotten that since he himself once dared to understand.

Melting backwards into silky sheets, Kaiba lazily reached out to pull an empty glass closer. It must have been sitting next to his alarm clock for days judging by the flat smell of stale whiskey, but it would suffice to serve as an ashtray all the same. As a rule of thumb, smoking was usually prohibited past Seto's bedroom door because he preferred to keep his sheets free of ashes, and his suits smelling clean with a spurt of cologne as opposed to carcinogens. _One cigarette wont hurt anything though,_ he justified to himself, taping the glowing tip against the inside of the glass, _well, besides my dishes that is, _he observed as the clump of ash broke the thin, discolored layer of film and drifted apart as it sank and dissolved.

He turned away from the putrid, half-empty-ash-cup with an unburdened sigh though, and chose to focus on the one opposite his cigarette hand that was still more than half full. The drink was well deserved after the night he'd been having, and the pleasure of a well awaited cigarette was too sweet to deny himself. _The simple things_, the CEO shut his eyes. _The things that make the most sense without demanding any words at all. _Although he knew that most were quick to call him flashy, extravagant, or even vain; he offend wondered if it would amuse them to know how he used them purely to protect himself; or if, instead, would they pity him, and say it wasn't his fault? That was stupid too though and he knew the people and the place he once adopted as his own would never bear any love for him. _I was only six_, he thought sadly, _I didn't…understand. ._

They would need to know him to love him, but Seto had given up that truth to create a false one in its stead. He knew it could never replace reality, but it would bend and distort perception; so he wore it just like skin, or maybe it was just his features, like a mask he wore so long, he could no longer find where the farce ended and where his face began. That part wasn't always as bad as it sounded though, it wasn't like he had ever really _gone_ anywhere; they had just given him a different name is all. But it was the only one the world knew him by, and from a young age, Kaiba decided it was _that_ simple, and it always could be. Just because he couldn't forget didn't mean everyone else needed to be reminded. The truth was too infectious and it spread to too many unwanted places while its outbreak becomes contagious. The only practical solution to such a threat was to quarantine himself to a life of unchanging simplicity.

From that day on, the rest of the world saw only what he wanted them to, but there were no hidden complexities behind his behaviors. They were as deep as the amount of consideration people put into their opinions of the pretentious, young prodigy, and took half-as-long to convince everyone that they were true than the truth would have. Really, that belief had been the point, the single objective that made everything he'd ever done so simple, the knowledge that allowed him to cleanse the guilt of claiming to be someone he'd been required to create. _You're always alone. I told him,_ Kaiba thought drowsily as his cigarette hissed into a simper, and the slippery slosh of ice and alcohol served to loosen the hinges that so frequently rusted into place. _That's why we do this _he considered, in a way that may almost have been empathetic if he was ever going to act on it, _because its all we have left to stand between us and the world now._ The mutt may have been too happy-go-lucky to see it, but they were both living in empty shells that they'd outgrown with time. _Did they forget to mention that to normal people too, Wheeler?_ He wondered, both blue eyes shutting to grasp the blonde's features. _That all that one-size-fits-all crap is total shit?_

This made the lines in his frown crease even more sadly though when it struck him so softly that Joey had no clue. Had he ever known anything other than the face they plastered on the sides of card shops, or the official pin-up posters that adoring boys and girls alike lined their bedroom walls with? Or is all of this just his desperate attempt to catch his breath because he's starting to realize all the oxygen has dissolved, and there's no breathing room left in that shell of his?

Scrunching his nose up tightly, something too akin to feeling filled his chest, twisting and contorting unfamiliarly inside a locked cell where it did not belong. He had to remember to be careful when allowing his simplicity to twist his thoughts; else they may just prove too frank once he wrung them out again. The line between the two cousins was a thin one; upon which truth and simplicity were always dancing, and every once in awhile they got the best of him. The part he kept out of the prison his person had become in hopes that it would neither grow nor be outgrown. Yet, the stunted, twisted truth wriggled painfully, regardless, and wouldn't let a simple disadvantage of size take away its right to live and breathe on its own accord; and it was hard to ignore that it left its host at the mercy of its resolutions.

In this case, it decidedly sought out the closet thing it could find, and the safest escape route. It was true what he'd said about being alone, and knew it was simply why people grew-up and outgrew a constant shedding layer of skin. It was because who you are is never good enough—people don't want the truth, they want to decide it for themselves—and they couldn't care less who you really are when they've already figured out exactly who they want you to be. And _that _much he could allow himself to agree that Joey and he had in common; though such a comparison did not soften the CEO's edges enough for him to feign loneliness, nor did his honestly lead him to admit inadequacy by claiming to be in need of assistance when he did not require it. He had no love for Joey, but he saw nothing to gain from lying about what was plainly going on—_The world is changing outside the one we both lived in for so long, and it doesn't know who we are anymore…Duel Monsters is just a shade, and we're nothing more than the shadows we cast after we step outside ourselves, and into the light. _But it was clear to him now that it made no difference how hard or how bright the beams shone as they rose above and broke off the features that no longer fit, because in the end it had left both of them blind to what the other had lost; and Kaiba began gritting his teeth at the reality he was, if nothing else, _lost_.

–-Stumbling around clumsily, groping around in the darkness that once seemed so familiar before this city shone a light down and exposed all the carefully placed baggage he used to think made him invisible. He had chosen bitter characteristics in the past because it was the easiest way to instill a sense of security—there was too much risk in exposing yourself to people that simply avoiding them altogether could solve. It was simple, and no one ever saw through to something else, because it was all he had armored himself with. Now, however, he found himself tripping over suitcases full of secrets and trunks so deep they could swallow you. And all the while, it had been so unnerving for Kaiba to feel all these new eyes falling curiously over him and not knowing what it is they saw. But when Joey had come to him earlier with his sweet words and slick smiles, Kaiba knew _exactly_ what he saw. _He saw home. He saw hope. He saw himself._

Sometimes the light was tricky like that, it illuminates and it eliminates, and then plays our sight false with shadows; but where light casts shades, it can just as easily cast reflections instead. So when Joey had come to him and tried to look forward, towards what he believed was change-it was simply the distracting shimmer off a pair of eyes that saw no further than the past. To each other, Kaiba and Joey were no more estranged than when they'd first met; the world they were in now may have shown sides of them differently, but they would always see each other exactly the same. It was easier to hold onto the last, remaining pieces than it was to admit the rest was gone. It began to discomfort the brunette however, the more he remembered that Joey was hanging on because its probably the first time he's ever had to push himself off a cliff before, and he has no idea what's down there. But Seto had leapt from the precipice and crash-landed onto a cliff, broke every bone as he free-fell to the floor of rock bottom, then sank into the subterranean before clawing his way back to the surface and crawling back up to the summit…It may have been the alcohol in that instant, but Kaiba, in that moment, realized he didn't have the heart left in him to tell the other boy that you have to go through all of that, just to jump back off again…that the falling never stopped, and some part of you was always broken…

A wince of pain shot through his spine, and Kaiba pushed the glass in his hand away. Earlier it seemed so full of possibility, and he let the intoxicating elixir provoke the potential of this rouse, but now that all the ice cubes had melted and displaced the balance, Kaiba had never felt so empty than as he watched his certainty diluting into a watered down drink that was too hard to swallow.

**-.-.-**

Joey hadn't faired much differently than the CEO, only leaving the sight of his apartment building behind long enough for the reality to sink in, and begin to pull him down beneath his thoughts. Half of him was still high off the idea that he'd finally outfoxed Kaiba and the other half was slowly coming down to realize the effects were only temporary. He may have won the battle, but he would need to remember that the fight wasn't over until one of them won the war. What war? Joey could not honestly say, but it was always a safer bet to expect gunfire from Kaiba than it was to seek good tidings. There may have been no real reason behind this self-styled feud they both remained so dedicated to, but there had always been a tension between them. For as long as Joey could remember.

Sometimes it felt like heat and other times energy, but both could be transferred just as easily between the duelists. Even the slightest brush of contact could spark enough friction to set the two of them on fire, and they had proved that well enough over the years. _Maybe that's why they tell you never fight fire with fire,_ Joey thought as he examined the absentminded motions of his fingers against the lighter, _because everything just burns…_ although, in some backwards way, Joey had learned to like the sensation of heat swelling through his muscles. It was much better to feed off the flames he'd decided than it was to freeze to death should they go out. There was nothing worse than the sensation of ice, crackling and freezing the flow of warmth throughout the chambers of the heart; it reminded him too much of dying, it reminded him of the damp, clammy weightlessness that deprived him of his will to live, and turned his heart to stone.

_I wont ever go back there_, he thought with a shiver through his core that did little to reassure him. He'd barely survived it the first time around, and even then it was really Kaiba who had melted the restraints of death away so easily, not Joey. Which had left part of him frozen somewhere deep down where temperatures kept the truth from thawing and melting away. Instead it sat inside his body like a kidney stone, and no matter how painful it got, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, or push it out of the way—it refused to pass.

Instead, it grew and grew, snowballing into a fortress tat was slowly fighting to freeze the blonde from the inside out; and he'd already gone so numb that laying down and letting sleep take him didn't sound half as bad as watching himself shatter. For who would be there to pick up all his pieces? Would anyone really be that surprised? Would someone cry for him somewhere? Or would everyone just shrug it off like it's been a long time coming?

Sighing, he turned over on his side to face the wall and decided he'd rather not know the answers. Instead, he continued to coax his lighter into a faint and heatless flicker, as if maybe it could at least bring some feeling back into his fingers. It had been so long since he'd last felt alive, and Kaiba had ignited him like warm weather in January—only enough to give him hope before vanishing back beneath the endless weeks of frost. It wasn't enough but it was all Joey could do to save himself by trying to fan the flame he'd sparked, and keep it from going out completely.

How long could he really keep that up though when Kaiba had gone colder than the ice? Replacing his fiery charge with an impersonal magnetism, instead, that pulled them together, despite the resistance, but wobbled unfittingly as they forced their way together, only to rip furiously away from the other the second they touched. How could he ever hope to restore the life support when he couldn't even get close enough to inspect the damage? Kaiba agreed, much to Joey's surprise, and he would hold true to his word, Joey knew, but that left how seriously he would take it to debate. Perhaps in the end it would be the biggest mistake he ever made, and Kaiba would simply trample over him and emerge unscathed and victorious as he always did; while Joey laid down like a dog with his tail between his legs.

The thought alone was enough to start compiling all the ingredients of a panic attack, and the pressure began to knead his heart muscles, causing sudden, sharp shocks of pain throughout his ribs. _Please no__, _he groaned, clenching his shirt as if to prevent the pain from escalating, _not tonight_. But begging for this to cease was like begging Kaiba to make sense. There were no answers; he simply had to let them run their course.

Perhaps if he was fortunate enough, they would play out in his favor, _but I'm not really about to stake my life on it_, Joey thought in an increasing panic, reaching out clumsily to shuffle a slender orange container with a white, child-proof cap towards himself. Turning it around thoughtfully in his fingers first, Joey's ears were met with the soft tapping of small, yellow ovals shifting against the see through sides of the bottle as the pills shuffled and slid though the space. Every time he completed a rotation, one side of the bottle was like a little window, tinted the color of negatives; and the other was wallpapered with a large white label that described its contents. At the top in small, black and bold print read his full name from last to first, and beneath it instructions to "take two tablets as needed." Although Doctor Nyguen assured him they were perfectly safe, Joey didn't feel right about ingesting this strange, bitter tasting prescription.

The first time he'd taken them, the doctor told him to let the pill dissolve beneath his tongue instead of swallowing right away. Joey nearly wretched up his breakfast, he'd never tasted something so disgusting before.

"_Well yah' aren't taken'em to taste good, are yah?" the man smiled warmly at Joey's scrunched up expression when he'd placed it under his tongue. "Yuck," Joey shook his head as the solid shape beneath his taste buds began to dissolve and lose shape. He could feel it spread with the saliva, which took on an almost metallic taste as the pill was left sitting in a wet, mushy clump that Joey could no longer stomach. He reached out for a glass of water, but found it mixing in with the cold, bitterness of metal. Somehow the bitter, distaste left over in his mouth had actually enhanced and elevated to an even cheaper, watered down taste. "_ _Yeahh," Joey breathed deeply, looking to the shrink unconvinced, "Do I _always_ have to take them like that?"_

"_Ah'course not," he smiled, "But now tha'ya have, next time ya get-ah buggah of an attack y'all know tha fastes' way tah fix it." However, the sweet blanket of darkness that started to swallow all feeling should have been an obvious answer, but Joey found himself asking anyways. "How is it the fastest?"_

"_Well, ya'see, the chemicals act-tually start ta work fastah, because they dissolve directly inta' ya blood stream." That much Joey had begun to figure out when by the same time his question had been answered, his entire mind had already been swept clean and calmness unlike any in the world encased him like a weightless armor. _

Doctor Nguyen called it _Alprazolam, _he pressed down on the lid with his palm twisting until the cover gave way; and Sam called them _Xanex_, he recalled, fingering out several ovals before tossing them to the back of his tongue, but to Joey they were _Miracles. _

**-.-.-.-**

The sun seemed to shine through his window, reflecting an adjacent stream of sunlight leading to his air mattress, and beamed like a laser, heatedly, over Joey's face in a wave of golden light. One pill in the morning, however, filled him with such an overwhelming sense of serenity that the heat caressed him like a lover, so warm, and so tender that he'd rather lay in its arms than get up to embrace the cold, emptiness that awaited him once he'd left the sanctity of his pillows. A lazy cat-nap wasn't likely to hurt anything anyways, it was still way too early.

Besides, if Kaiba was sincerely going to follow through tonight than Joey could certainly use all the heat his body could possibly savor before Kaiba greeted him with a cold front, and those icy irises emerged to frost the blonde back over. That was the worst-case scenario, but at the same time Joey knew it was also the most plausible; if he was not mistaken, Kaiba had truly only promised Joey that he would have his ass handed to him—an unpromising situation that he would never be able to prevent or prepare for should it come down to that. Still, even amidst the probable outcomes he had rehearsed, Joey found himself instinctually unprepared. The truth of it was that he hadn't the fainted notion of what to expect, but this time Kaiba was to blame for that.

Joey had never felt more clear-headed, but it seemed to him like the CEO'S own head had been filled even fuller with full-proof plots and plans to reveal at his disposal. Usually, their interactions stopped after a lost challenge, a few cheap shots, and the same uncreative insults they'd coined after _Duelist Kingdom_. Typically, Joey picked the fight and Kaiba played along—he was not ignorant to how empty the true threat of their 'rivalry' was. It was more of a game than an actual competition, but then once the right hooks started coming out of left field, and the punch lines grew to be more personal than they were impartial the game switched from levels of difficulty with the two of them squabbling to get a word in edge wise. And whenever their heated, competitive affairs simmered down into the dullness of ordinary life, they both seemed to gravitate towards each other instead of orbiting on their own respective planes. There was never a conversation, just always the unspoken urge to reach out and ruffle a few feathers. Whenever they were surrounded in a crowd—their words were usually brief and tame enough to almost appear playful to someone who didn't know them. Things like a sarcastic flip of the wrist and some sideways comment about how Joey was oblivious and never aware enough to grasp a situation—or how Kaiba's trench coats must be as stiff as he is to withstand so much gravity—and were there any other laws, natural or physical, that his money _couldn't_ defy? And then their words would end with the brunette calling out to Joey like he were a canine, and the blonde retorting with a smirk and a 'see ya later money bags,' as if to irritate the other by reducing him to an inanimate object. Which, as it turned out was still one step beneath 'mutt,'

Joey sighed and then inhaled deeply, wondering if the two of them could have been friends once; during some unknown window of time they'd missed. Locks of shaggy blonde hair bounced off his forehead as his head shook condescendingly and dismissively at the idea he blamed these pills for allowing to formulate. _Who cares if we __**could**__ have been friends_, Joey thought crossly, mixing the rest of the memories into the thought, _because I'd never __**want**__to be friends with him. _Contradictory to his plans, the youth couldn't help but harbor resentment when he remembered the truth of their most compelling connection—the harsh, raw, reality that they unleashed upon each other whenever they slipped a duel disk onto their arms.

Maybe once their tactics had been empty, but they developed a certain energy over the years, and with that energy came a bond of familiarity which granted a certain control over the ebb and flow of the duel. They easily learned which fuses were short and what buttons to push and when to push them; however, they had grown relentless n their slander and their shared stamina to endure the others insults often led them into a standstill. Perhaps that was the phenomenon Joey was witnessing right now; perhaps this was them in an epic standstill, caught between the two extremes of interaction that were no longer divided between school and tournaments. Yet, without that clear bisector, those extremes became counterproductively entangled when they could no longer discern which behavior the situations demanded. You see, it was difficult to be nice to Kaiba when a part of Joey hated him; but it was even harder to scream at him when the distance between them was a pocket of air; without an arena, the words seemed emptier devoid of an echo. He wasn't sure what kind of sense that even made, but that seemed to be the running theme lately. Every time he asked another question, he fell short of an answer, and everything remained in free fall, with no gravity to pull down what was real.

-.-.-.-.

_**Aye! Okay, well there we go, it's a pretty long chapter, so hopefully you all forgive me for disappearing for so long :( As always, reviews are appreciates, as is your dedication and loyalty to this story :) so thank you so much to anyone who's still checking in from time to time, as well as any new readers that find this. ANYWAYS, yes, review please, and I'm going to go work on corrections for chapters ten and eleven. (thats right BOTH).**_


	10. Lacking A Coherent Structure

**Chapter 10**_**: Lacking A Coherent Structure. **_

"You ready?" Sam smiled at him as Joey paced restlessly, fidgeting discontent with his clothing.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he sighed unconvinced, glancing backward at himself in the mirror. A deep green button down shirt hung undecidedly over a plain-white shirt, which was riding slightly above his waistline where he'd fastened a brown leather belt through the dark set denim. In truth, it felt fancy, like the clothes didn't fit the simple, slender body beneath them. The unfamiliar weight caused him to constantly check himself over for flaws.

Impressions were everything, and he knew that to win over Kaiba, he had to make his stand out. So, with that in mind, he phoned Sam an hour before Kaiba arranged their rendezvous, in order to help him look the part. A request to which she'd laughed affectionately and asked, "What's the matter? Afraid he wont ask you on a second date?" Joey had scoffed, turning an angry, flustered shade and choked on some sort of excuse, but she'd simply shrugged it off with a sarcastic, "_Suuure."_

That shouldn't have bothered him, but since he'd allowed it, the notion clung to his conscience like the worst kind of catalyst. Without even a wink of thought, the night transposed with all the proper etiquette and expected anxieties of a date. _Not that this is date_, Joey stressed breathlessly to himself, _but __**god**__, could I be any more nervous?_ For all Joey could tell, this may as well have been a date. Because to him Kaiba was as complex and elusive as any women he'd ever met. There was no graspable science behind his emotions, what he meant wasn't always what he said, and trying to navigate through the _right_ things to say was like playing a game of minesweeper. One second you think you've got a pattern down, but one blindsiding explosion in the next disrupts the sequence and resets the score.

This was going to call for Joey to bring out everything had, to pull out all the right stops, because the metaphor was just too perfect. Even though Joey not actually courting Kaiba went without saying—the brunette was, in every way, just like that girl who was totally out of his league. He only got one shot, if he wasn't on top of his game, interest would be easily lost, and his efforts would become just another failed attempt. In this situation, Joey was the reacher and Kaiba was the settler; a formidable yet functional philosophy he'd stolen from endless _How I Met Your Mother_ marathons with Sam. Although he hated submissively agreeing to assume the substandard half of the equation—there was an unspoken quality of leadership in Kaiba that Joey couldn't help but want to follow. Which is why he had to extend his confidences beyond his own comfort zones if he ever hoped to keep up with the condition he admired. However, the brunette had to decide his own willingness to settle; unfortunately to this scenario, Kaiba only ever did so for the best, and it was going to take a hell of a lot more than a change of clothes to convince him that _that_ was Joey.

This overwhelming performance anxiety is what led the blonde to equip himself with several sort of artificial enhancers. Laughing to himself about the immature play on words, he patted down on his pocket for comfort, and smiled away fears of inadequacy. Armored in alprazolam, there was no cataclysm that could hope to disrupt the comfort encasing his exposure. The sweet breeze swept wind through his hair, and his heart beat even and confidently beneath the weightless links, forged from calmness into chainmail—absorbing all the properties of carefree security. The sensation of waves rising and breaking continued to amplify the electric current that kept Joey's feet falling in front of each other in a constant motion. _Maybe it'll be him asking for that second date,_ he entertained with a smug smirk.

Deaf to the churning, restlessness of the endless tide, Kaiba did everything to isolate himself from these waves of uncertainly crashing over him. It were as if Joey's attitude had somehow offset him from a far—and the closer time got to his arrival, the more the water seemed to toss about, rocking the sensitive balance his stomach was struggling to maintain. Just because he said he needed this didn't mean he wanted it—_any of it._ He didn't want the exposure, the risk, or the consequence. All of the above could easily undo him, and as if the clock struck midnight, this masquerade might reveal that underneath the mask, he was human.

_What if that is his real goal_, Kaiba flashed a web of connecting scenarios, _just to expose me—to get back at me for everything I've done._ Even in his most arrogant of moods, he could not deny his evident awareness of slighting Joey any more than he could ignore what he'd done to his brother. The evidence was too compelling and the disappointment was always there. _Joey isn't Mokuba though, _Kaiba contrasted harshly, _he's not mine to care about, and I have no reason to trust him._

Alarm stared to alleviate the burden of optimism and openness Seto had succumbed to when he realized how foolishly he underestimated his opponent. _Joey isn't a genius, but he's by no means stupid. _Kaiba joined his hands in a gesture of thought, contemplating the others strengths. _He'll never match my intelligence, but he has more street smarts than I ever will, _the brunette admitted with slight admiration, and even more anguish. _This is probably what he wanted all along. He needs me to let my guard down, and he knows me well enough to figure out how._ As the logical simplicity became no longer hindered by the complex possibility—the false skin grew taught around Seto's bones and hardened into a rough callous. Years of extensive use had taken all the feeling out of exerted pressure, and they were already so accustomed to being walked all over.

Transforming with his defense sequence, Kaiba's mindset melted into a malevolent pulsing magma. Furious in color, but contained in chambers underground it was the most dangerous form of heat. Free flowing but impossible to contain; no one was exempt from its alluring beauty, but few and far between would ever succeed in getting close enough. No one could withstand the heat. No one possessed the resistance to deflect the disorienting temperature of this particular temperament, and Kaiba fed off the unattainable obsession that infected those who tried. He liked it especially because it proved he was invincible—untouchable—and because those who failed would walk away with scars to remind them they were only hurting themselves. And Joey was always running himself into walls, so Kaiba saw no reason to deprive him of this self-destruction he seemed so set on. _But I will not follow him headfirst into it._ His resentment bubbled beneath the flow of dangerous currents as he dwelled on Joey's double-motives.

Justly disillusioned by his own self-fashioned logic, Kaiba's face boiled as his thoughts formulated ten times faster than he could form words…_that second-rank, second-class, subservient animal thinks he can slander __**my**__ name? _Remembering suddenly that just because they'd reached a compromise didn't make them equals. Still, Kaiba gritted his teeth at Joey's recent advance, an advance which he could not seem to fathom how or why the other duelist had reigned victoriously from. _You may have won the battle Wheeler,_ Kaiba shook his head, still not stomaching such ludicrousness as he prepared himself for the following half hour, _but just you __**wait**__._

Although, overwhelmed with his usual overconfidence, his overactive mental process couldn't help but begin to dissect the issue at large; and if, for whatever reason, he were to be disproven, in even the _slightest_ way, then his worst fears would all come true-like a living nightmare, trapped with his worst rival. Even though Yugi had always been his most detrimental opponent, Kaiba had at least learned to respect Yugi's genuine abilities, and so there was something diplomatic about losing to his equal. However, when it came to Joey, who insulted everything he stood for, the duelist was never even a threat, and yet it was a rivalry that burned deeply in his core—a loss that he himself found unforgiveable.

_Yugi wouldn't even risk me falling off that ledge back at Duelist Kingdom, even though it would take him out of the running. He even knew that I was manipulating him to take his spot, but he has never held it over my head, or ever brought it up either. If Joey had something like that on me though, he would __**never**__ let it go, he would __**never**__ let me forget that._

Such a realization was far from new to Kaiba though, so whether there was some truth behind what the mutt had said or not, he calculated there was no possible way to recover from something as degrading as losing to such an unrefined creature. If he did, he would become trapped in a city where Joey could easily find him, and without the resources he was so accustom to, there was little he could do to hide from the boy. Joey's victory would cut him off at the knees, making his life unmanageable. It would not only destroy his being here, but escape would become impossible to attain altogether; and should it travel back to Japan, it would ruin his reputation too. No one would ever take him seriously again, and he would never be able to accept his own worth or credibility as the **best**.

There were no exceptions, and he couldn't improvise this time. He needed his strategy to be absolutely foolproof, causing him to revisit something he'd been running away from for quite some time, and ironically the same thing that had caused the blonde's disoriented state to remind him so much of himself just a few weeks ago. Sighing, Kaiba stared down thoughtfully at the prescription he'd abandoned. Resting in his palm, the pills returned his gaze with one of allure; the bottle beckoned him close, begging for a chance to breathe again, and bargaining its advantages by bestowing the ability to alleviate all that burdened him.

It was as if the sweet, orange sphere had already taken hold of his heart and jumpstarted the hundred miles per hour acceleration of reality. After all, life was so much easier set on fast-forward, and he'd once been given the power to skip right to the end, undisrupted by the effects that collected in the middle. The temptation crept incrementally into his blood stream the more he allowed the bottle to become part of his hand. _I could be invincible,_ he insisted, almost helplessly, to himself, remembering how vitalizing every inch of air around him became, how tangible it made _everything._

His external surroundings became internal and vice-versa; so thoughts and emotions were no exceptions to its altering effects. From his passions to his fears, the amphetamine-based ingredient amplified them all; to the point they were scarcely controllable. Yes, he could still feel it now, even after twenty-four months and thirty-three days, almost exactly two years after the Orichalocs, the memory alone was still potent enough to last a lifetime. _That's when I told myself I'd stop_, he argued feebly, as the conviction dissolved with in the chemical reactions telling him to take control.

As his neck stiffened under the straining balance of behavior he'd been trying so hard to maintain, Kaiba shook his head, turning his lids down painfully. The seldom-showed soft space in his thoughts wanted to submit to something real, but to err was too human for a person with so many faults. And if forgiveness was in fact, this divine sort of gift, then he decided there was no god merciful enough to grant solace to the likes of a monster. So the inhuman, marionette he kept hidden began to pull strings, hinging his joints in rehearsed motions that reminded him what he'd been conditioned for: _performance_; the demand for perfection that fastened seven strings in place of a lifetime of immobility. They were the formula of restraint and remembrance that taught Kaiba not to bite the hand that feeds; the hand that had assembled this little wooden boy on strings and breathed life into his hollow lungs. As real as his desire was to see the world through eyes that weren't painted—Kaiba knew he'd never be a real boy. He'd never taste that freedom.

The bottle practically dissolved right into his palm the way he was clenching it so protectively; all the receptors in his brain taking total control of the action potentials. Once fired, they never missed, and his already anal obsession with accuracy made certain of it. Where most people paused to process, Kaiba was pulled through every potential his brain produced; so forget about a refractory period, he wasn't most people anymore, he was a _Kaiba_ now, and they didn't have _time_ for failure. After all, time is money, and money is the product of perfection. Loss was not even _permitted_ in their vocabulary, and so the last time Seto ever experienced it, was the second his stepfather signed the dotted line.

Against the elements of resentment and pain that the prescription had inflicted through out his life, Kaiba chose instead to remember them in their most basic form. In their simplicity—they were perfection; they were organization and analysis. In a finite science, they were the hypothesis that had never been disproven. _I should know too_, Kaiba thought, swallowing before secondary opinions overthrew any doubts. _After all, I was the experiment. _He let himself remember. 'The trial and error prototype to a coming of age production of the perfect child.'

The notion filled him with a bitter irony that even the sweet after-taste in his mouth couldn't sugarcoat. It was the contradictory childhood that remedied the experiences of growing up with the requirement of immediacy—for to have the perfect child is to prevent them from ever being one in the first place. A most challenging prospect, but noting a little money and medicine couldn't solve. Kaiba may have been the dependent variable, but the only truly independent factor had always been his step-father; his demeanor was always unchanging yet the boy depended on it, no matter how subjectively cruel, because it was the only way forward.

Even now, the pill may have produced the synthetic shift, but it wasn't the hand bending Kaiba's body to its will, and it was certainly not his own either. The prominent rush that accelerated his heart beat into an exciting, hypersensitive simulation reminded him of that truth. However, it did more than just disillusion, it drove an in dissuadable sense of security to smother submission. Even though he sometimes entertained the idea of constant happiness; it broke effortlessly against the fatal forces of finality—those all or nothing, eaten or be eaten, stakes were the only thing he'd ever known; and as far as he knew now, this place was a jungle. There was no compassion in instinct, only survival, and when it came to the fittest—Seto was the prime paradigm of natural selection. That characteristic had never been given to him however, he'd just been born that way, and it had not gone unnoticed. Even from a young age, older people were impressed with his potential; but only one had ever broken it.

"_You can't control a man until you learn to break the man," the strange, shadow with the hard-lined face told him too professionally._ A lesson Kaiba shamelessly adopted; as the heir in training, Gozaburo indented to ensure his investments. A simple protocol as to protect everything he had endowed in Seto's name. It was a simple, bullet-point plan, the science experiment from which he was truly born. As a specimen, the boy proved to be almost perfect—the parts were already assembled, and the test-runs had all provided adequate results, but he needed to be _absolutely_ sure. Gozaburo had to be _certain_, without a doubt, that perfection was more than just an implication—that it became hardwired into Seto's DNA—programmed. The boy had to be a paternal prototype—practically identical to everything he didn't belong to. However, in Gozaburo's mind, the boy did belong to him, and so he made all the incisions. He consulted with his private staff of doctors, made all the proper calls, and just like that, a proscription was produced: _Adderall 20 Mg. Instant Release. _It was the final touch necessary to regulate the results, the knot that secured the strings Gozaburo had carefully customized.

_I was always meant to wear them. _He felt sad on the inside. _They're not an attachment; they're apart of me._

In a matter of no time, Gozaburo had trained the youth rigorously—running him in and out of simulation testing, and conditioning the boy's reactions and results. There was no room for error in the sequence, and with Seto as the guinea pig, the medicine quickly combine the youth's raw and astounding intellect with limitless, incalculable control. Quickly potentiating, just the same as it was now, the sequence in this strain was flawless, and once injected, production was unstoppable; its value, inconceivable.

Gozaburo's medication corrected and prohibited any and all malfunctions; and upon its dissolution into Seto's digestive track, the cogs in the boy's head fell flawlessly in sync. _Success is material, remember?_ He reminded himself bitterly, with Joey's voice echoing in narration. _Just be what they want you to be,_ he repeated in an offsetting manner when life filled his heart with apprehension. In some ways, his brain was so ruthlessly trained that it was militarized. _You are what you eat,_ he claimed frantically, while his thoughts fell focused around a format. _Be invincible._ Yes, that's what Gozaburo had indented, he didn't want a son, let alone two, he wanted a _weapon. _So he had taken a young, relatively bright boy of ten, and turned him into a well-oiled machine. _Like father like son._ Seto stood to represent the dictating authority of the Kaiba dynasty, and anything besides despotism was dehumanizing.

_This is all a review,_ a voice inside assured him as he rose to meet the sounds falling from Joey's hesitant knocking. However, with the ghost of his late step-father reassuming control, he gave himself defenselessly to the manipulatively meticulous manifestations of the methamphetamine madness. The strategy appeared unsound, but the more unsettling it was, the more sense it made. "Madness in great one's must not unwatched go," he quoted Shakespeare's infamous insinuation with a self-satisfied smirk—knowing the true extent of its sincerity. His own step father had once underestimated that, and paid the same price he'd cost Seto; a price that left behind the most unfeasible kind of debt: the claim to a name that was drawn up in a contract, a contract that had given the boy no choice than to fall victim to the restless shade of the hand that signed away his soul. Left with nothing but a legacy of pre-planned logistics, and a lifetime of being strategically positioned amidst corporate warfare, he had been groomed for battle. _But they didn't tell you father, _he thought, moving mechanically, _there's method in the madness. You forgot that when you made me, didn't you? _

A secret weapon without autopilot, a gun without a trigger—Gozaburo Kaiba waged mass destruction, and Seto cocked back his trigger finger, and delivered the promise. Sometimes he found himself wondering if it wasn't him who put the actual gun to Gozaburo's head, if his promise was kept with two bullets instead of one. Ballistics didn't seem to favor him though, and the thought left him ill-at ease, but he pushed it away when he popped a second pill, and finally pulled open the door.

"Are you _deaf?_" Joey demanded breathlessly after fifteen minutes of waiting.

"Hmm," Kaiba looked on obliviously, then feigned surprise, "Did you say something?"

-.-.-

**reviews? pewees? :) i ammmm about to give you the next chapter as a free-bee y'know!**


	11. CasuallyDressed ForA SeriousConversation

**haha well hopefully whoever still reads this is enjoying it! [sorry i intend to reply to reviews, but i can be forgetful lol] anyways, my little sister says she loves the dialogue in this one, although its a shame it won't sound the same since i read it aloud to her usually. (sigh) OHWELL. its still a most beautimis, productive, plot developing chapter. (finally, right?)**

**-.-.-**

**Chapter Eleven:**_** Casually Dressed for a Serious Conversation. **_

Joey stared at the brunette who, for once, seemed to be dressed in something under a hundred dollars, but found him no less humbling.

"So, are you ready?"

"No, just let me do my hair real quick," Kaiba rolled his eyes. "What did you expect me to do?"

Joey fought away a shy blush when he remembered he couldn't take this whole dating metaphor too far. "No, you just look different that's all."

"Oh, I see," the CEO stepped aside, letting Joey know he could enter. "So, you don't like the way I look, is that it?"

Joey glanced unsure at the other. "What….no," he stumbled, unsure of what he'd been asked. "You look fine, I mean okay," his nose turned pink. "You look okay."

"Just okay?" Kaiba asked in a tone that compelled Joey to change his answer.

"What do you want me to say?" Joey stammered, but quick to catch onto the game. "Do you want me to tell you how pretty you look Kaiba?" he folded his arms stubbornly across his chest.

Kaiba shrugged. "Only if you mean it."

"Sorry," Joey smiled back, "But my mother taught me that it's not polite to lie."

For some reason that brought a smile to Kaiba's face. "So, I guess is shouldn't except you to call, huh?"

Color had begun to creep across the rest of his face, but Joey retained control, turning to establish consistency amidst the confusingly playful atmosphere. "Depends if you put out or not."

The choice of words surprised the CEO as much as Joey had wanted them to, and the brunette's eyes narrowed. "Not all of us are so easy Wheeler," he recovered.

"Oh?" Joey's eyes sparkled, "You were pretty easy last night."

For a moment Kaiba almost seemed to grow deeper in the face, until he released a bored yawn. "Nah, I just faked it."

"Screams sounded pretty real to me."

"_Okay_, too far."

"Yeah," Joey agreed, suddenly not believing either of them went there at all.

"Sorry," Kaiba offered, "Sometimes I get carried away."

"Sometimes?" Joey questioned incredulously.

"Take it or leave it Wheeler, I'm not going to say it twice."

"Whatever," he waved dismissively.

"So, are you gonna take me out, or are we gonna sit here staring at each other all night?" Kaiba propped his hand against his hip.

Joey held his arm towards the door, "I thought you'd never ask."

There had been an eerie silence separating them as they walked along the lakefront. It was close to 9PM and the night sky swallowed them. Joey was lost in the curious bounce that seemed to have appeared in Kaiba's step overnight, and Kaiba was well aware of the staring. Breathing in deeply, his heart dropped then regained the proper pace. Although composed on the outside, Kaiba's insides coiled and contorted in a frenzy of fear, curiosity, anxiety, and excitement. He could feel the waves lap and pool in steady strokes, painting the shore, just as clearly as he could feel the touch and go of the blonde's glances casting shadows in his peripherals. Where Joey's eyes should've been unnerving, they were disarming, and Kaiba couldn't seem to find a focal point to fixate on. Amidst the midnight and moonlight, Joey's eyes looked like the sea under the thick blanket of darkness.

Void of any color, the chocolate backdrop in his hazel coloring turned black and grey like waves overthrowing each other uncertainly because they could not see. Although common sense clearly cast a more effective shadow; the brunette found himself falling in love with the disjoining shade. Common sense was either black or white—and at its best, sometimes, grey. Once it was a spectrum in which he struggled to define one from the other, but that was before he flooded the whole thing with color. Now he could no longer tell where black met white, or where grey began; his senses were failing him, and yet something in Joey's eyes spoke to him. They did not say a lot, and they struggled just to be seen through the fractures of light passing between each lamppost, but they stuttered into sputters, and spoke nonetheless. Morphing in and out of the dull illumination, Joey's eyes pooled like reflective surfaces, swaying in a sea of obsidian. Although appearing empty, there was deeper meaning under all those layers, but the free flowing shadows shrouded them in a two-way mirror of shatterproof glass. Kaiba could see in, but only Joey saw out, and neither one of them could break through.

"Do you have a lighter?" Kaiba spoke abruptly, turning away from the scarlet shorelines and emerald islands as they sank back into an oblivious expression.

"Yeah, here," Joey slipped a hand in and out of his right pocket, and watched Kaiba impatiently light a cigarette. At first, the lighter wouldn't seem to cooperate, failing the fight against the wind for some breathing room. _Fiend much?_ Joey thought hypocritically, reaching reflexively for his own, as he watched the CEO create a blockade against the breeze with his fingers.

"_Oh. My_. _God."_ the brunette exclaimed under his breath, now angling himself against the wind.

Joey slipped his cigarette behind his ear in one smooth motion before pivoting in front of Kaiba. "Here," he covered the quarter-lit Marlboro with both hands, "Let me."

"Thanks," Kaiba muttered, lowering his head.

Catching the lime-green, baby Bic in midair, Joey used one hand to reposition his cigarette, and the other to light it.

"It _would_ take you two seconds," Kaiba said disbelievingly.

"Jealous?" Joey asked, dragging sideways on a thick cloud of smoke.

"I don't love smoking _that_ much," he almost smiled again, but stuck the stick back between his lips before it formed.

"I still can't believe you love it period," Joey shook his head.

"Oh?" the brunette feigned the slightest curiosity.

"You're just too…clean," Joey decided after contemplating the right word.

Blue eyes rose and fell with the lingering tone that reminded the blonde of a parent trying to indicate an obvious error. "So, you're calling yourself dirty?" his eyes traced a straight line between their cigarettes.

Joey took another frustrated drag. "Shut up."

"It was only a question," he added harmlessly. "I just don't see what being clean has to do with anything."

"Well, never mind," the blonde flicked his cigarette, "I'm not wasting my breath to amuse you."

"Funny," Kaiba glanced upward in mock-consideration. "I don't remember asking you to entertain me, just a simple question."

Sighing, the blonde felt tension arise from the resistance, and his fingers fell to the outside of his pants pocket. Beneath the layer of denim and stitching, pressed warmly against his thigh were two distinct outlines resting against each other. One was rounded and protruding, the other slender and secretive; although the simple motions of his fingertips calmed him into a false sense of security.

"I just meant that I wouldn't have expected it, that's all."

The honest answer seemed to be enough however, because Kaiba raised no further objections, although parted with some unexpected advice. "You wont expect a lot of things about me, Wheeler," he paused, but the rest seemed determined to spill out in sentences. "That doesn't mean they're not true though. Don't act like you know me, okay?"

There was an offsetting malice in the way Kaiba's last words echoed, a sort of quickness in his speech that seemed almost sensitive. _Exactly like a woman_, Joey rolled his eyes to himself, _all over the place, and already stubborn as hell. _He had decided then that this certainly wasn't going to be even remotely easy, and the colder temperatures were nipping at him as Kaiba released a draft of icy silence. The skin around his face was practically photo shopped into place with a smooth, jaw line dead-locked and unpredictably stiff.

Sitting so stationary, it was hard to think he'd ever move them again, but thinking always had him clenching his teeth, ever since he was small. He felt the chemicals pour cement into his fillings now though, and he knew better than to let it set. If he wasn't careful; he'd lose himself in thought forever and never talk again.

"So…where are we going?" Kaiba unhinged his jaw, wriggling it unfamiliarly as he waited for Joey to break the silence.

"Dinner."

"No, movie?"

Joey shot him a look, lost somewhere between irritated and oblivion.

"Okay, okay," the brunette surrendered. "No movie."

If this had been a real date, the second they walked up to the grand-staircase ascending the side of the ravine, Joey would've had this in the bag. Instead, Kaiba huffed and puffed with cigarette in hand all the way to the top—thoroughly unimpressed. Well, at least that's all Joey could see from the way the other boy's eyes darted from one detail to the next as if nothing could hold his attention. Not that it truly mattered, but Joey had hoped to_…I don't know…prove something_ he guessed. Yet, from the tea-lights to the table, little changed between them.

The restaurant moved around them, but they seemed stationary by contrast. A strange symphony of sounds played as background music to their silence, and neither could seem to establish eye contact long enough to initiate a conversation. There was both something natural and something forced about it though that only increased Joey's appeal towards it. If Kaiba was playing hard to get, figuratively speaking, it sure as hell was working. The more he withdrew, the more he drew Joey in, and the harder Joey fought it, the more effortless Kaiba's attempts turned. All it seemed to take was a glance from either of them and the even shyer silence snuck up on the one they didn't think could get any deeper.

"This is weird," Joey laughed awkwardly, but lightheartedly at the unfamiliar situation as his hand moved across the table to reach his glass. "I feel like I should be putting something in attack mode or something."

Kaiba couldn't help but grin, finally able to associate with familiar references in conversation, "I know."

The appearance of common ground suited their smiles well enough, but ended just as quickly.

"How come you're here?" Kaiba was the first to ask, stepping between casual and casualty in order to reach the obvious. Why it surprised the blonde, he couldn't say, but his response revealed much of that hesitance.

"I uhm, moved," he stumbled the obvious.

Kaiba leaned his weight forward. "Yes," he agreed calmly. "But _why_?"

"Because I wanted to," he swallowed.

"Liar," Kaiba called him out.

"_Okay_," Joey snapped. "Why are _you_ here?"

This time Kaiba folded his hands and leaned back. "I'm running away from all my accomplishments, remember?"

"Never mind what I said," Joey dismissed the redirect. "What do _you_ have to say?"

"Nothing."

"You can't say _nothing_," he argued stubbornly.

Kaiba simply stared.

"_Real_ mature," several hazel eyes found there way into frequencies of blue.

"Says the one who bets people to hang out with him," Seto sighed, glancing around for no-smoking signs.

_Ouch_, Joey winced, but summoned an outward glare for Kaiba. "Well _excuse me_ for trying."

"I'm not excusing you from anything," his lips curled devilishly. "We're in this together now, remember?"

That look gave Joey a queasy feeling that wasn't remedied very fast by simple steps, and he felt his resolution weakening. "Yeah, we are. So why don't you try acting like a _normal_ person for once."

Kaiba sensed the shift in the air the same way it swam around in his stomach, and something dissolved. Some wall that kept the rush or reality out broke and brought blurs and flashes of motions back into his peripherals.

"I really don't think _you're_ the best person to try and tell me about being normal," Kaiba's eyes bulged. "You're not exactly my cup of tea either."

"I don't even like tea," Joey shook his head.

Another half smile crept creepily into Kaiba's cheek. "What?"

"I said I don't like tea."

"Yeah," he made a noise similar to laughter, "but why?"

Joey rolled his shoulders self-consciously, "I don't know."

"Well, it was a figure of speech," the other boy regained an off-standish tone. "It didn't require a response."

"God," Joey threw up his hands, feeling more and more unsettled in his armor than he had when they began the night. "I can't even have a conversation correctly with you, you're so fucking uptight."

Kaiba's eyebrows rose sharply above his eyes, sending forth a glare that shook shivers through Joey. "Better than blather on like you."

That shut Joey up quickly, but lured them both back into the silence that settled fixedly over any form of movement. _I'm being too friendly_, Kaiba scowled, feeling a very real space in his chest twist sensitively. However, he couldn't hope to offset it with 40 mg coursing through his veins, and so he tossed Joey's opening statement about duel monsters around in his head as he felt his strings lifting and falling in their proper places. If he could put some kind of subtext to all of this, he might still be able to turn Joey off to this entire deal. So, he began to formulate the context of their meeting with a duel—he couldn't believe he hadn't conjured the comparison earlier. After all, it was the only real reference point they had.

So, repositioning himself with his back stiffly erect against the red pleather backing of his seat, Kaiba reevaluated the space in front of him. Rather than view the sensation of pills as a high or even a secret weapon, he thought of his medicine like a spell card that would compliment his abilities. With this 'card' at his disposal, he could easily set a trap if he used a home field advantage—or more simply, if he tapped in to the reality Joey wasn't aware of. Kaiba looked across from himself, evaluating Joey's last move; _Defense mode,_ he noted, _no facedown card._ Concluding that Wheeler yielded a weak draw and had nothing ulterior up his sleeve, Kaiba played a more able card, and his spitefully cruel determination threw him into attack mode. "What's the matter?" he inquired the blonde's silence spitefully before Joey could get a word in edge wise, "Cat got your tongue, Mutt?"

Eyeing the other boy's stamina to inspect the damage, he watched the pained wince that temporarily emerged in place of a comeback. _Trap, negated,_ he smiled victoriously as he secured the lead through Joey's obvious withdraw. _And now to attack his life points directly…_

"What are you doing?"

"Making my move," Kaiba said unthinkingly.

"What? I meant why do you keep looking at me all weird."

"It's my turn," the brunette replied, eyes still focused invisibly on the cards that weren't really there.

"Turn for what?" Joey asked weirdly, but Kaiba didn't answer, and the boy wished desperately to put an end to what conjured in his stomach when those eyes traced his every angle, inspecting him in a way that felt almost invasive. "Whatever it is, stop doing it, it's weird," Joey said uncomfortably, feeling the first of his own safety strategies beginning to weigh down his pocket.

Thankfully, something seemed to shake within that big brain of the brunette's, and his face clouded with the closest thing to embarrassment Joey had ever seen him wear. "You almost look normal," he smiled in spite of himself, and despite the fact it was bound to receive a riled up reaction.

"Excuse me?"

"It's a compliment, relax."

"_Don't_ tell me what to do," Kaiba frowned with obvious annoyance coating his voice.

"Sensitive, much?" Joey's eyes widened, but grew calmer and he sunk into his armor and Kaiba slipped out of his.

"I'm not sensitive."

"Well what _are_ you then?"

This perturbed the executive, his face fell a shade softer, but his eyes clouded with confusion as his pupils dilated into black holes, that Joey found somehow sad in comparison to the dark and bright blue they eclipsed. "Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Yeah, okay," Joey backed down softly, still trying to figure out if the emotionless tone was another trap.

For the next fifteen minutes, the scenery swallowed both boys back down into the restless sea they were trying so hard to stay afloat upon. Still ignorant to the stakes they had wagered, both duelists made pivotal mistakes. As Joey swayed patiently in his seat, he disregarded the element of wind, the unpredictable shifts in course that could take effect any second. Kaiba, on the other hand, stood the most vulnerable, in the shallowest of the water. Ignoring the abandoned elements he'd allowed to sink out of sight, Kaiba's world lay in shipwrecks. Catching onto an inconceivable coverage of causalities, his vessel rocked unsteady, weighing him fixedly until even veering motion became pivotal. Ironically towards his own self-insured superiority that prepositioned him over the worthless dog, the leash that retracted was his own.

"What's that?" Kaiba's intonation wavered, noticing Joey's hand slip stealthily into his pants pocket, but not well enough to hide it.

Joey jumped visibly in his seat, "They're nothing," he rushed breathlessly, shoving something back downward that gave off a distinct _clank-clanking_ noise.

Suddenly the plot thickened, and Kaiba's brain automatically began to recalculate through the eyes of a dual. _Copy Cat_, he thought with an uneven thumping that took over in his chest, realizing with sudden alarm the parallel to his dream the previous night. _Mirror force, one of my cards was mirror force,_ he recalled, understanding the implied symbolism. If Joey had a medicine, than his own went down in value, and if he had to figure out a way around Joey's farce, it was just the same as trying to project his own onto the other duelist. _I'm fighting myself_, he thought with a sharp chill shooting through his spine, as Goosebumps prickled his skin, and the potency of feeling in his chest overwhelmed him.

"They're obviously pills, Joey" Seto said, retaining an air of authority despite the conflict of thought and emotion behind his eyes. "Why can't you just tell me what they are?"

"Because," Joey crossed both arms stubbornly, as if to deflect Kaiba's prying gaze, "I don't need you going off and researching it later."

_Oh, you're good, Wheeler._ "What makes you think I'd do that?" the tone fluctuated in attempts to reflect falsity.

"That's obvious," Joey rolled his eyes. "To somehow hold it against me."

Kaiba frowned. "Why do you always talk about me like that?"

"Like what? A complete asshole?"

"Not the word I was thinking of," Kaiba looked downwardly to his lap for a second, every one of his features falling into an unknown face.

"Okay. So how _would_ you describe it then, Kaiba?"

"Well," he paused. "It's just…you say stuff like that to me by default," both eyebrows slanted inwardly. "How come you automatically assume the worst?"

"It's what I know," Joey said, almost sympathetically. "It's who you are."

The collision of his words had been so direct that Kaiba never had the chance to deflect the attack, nor could he dissuade the extent of damage. "You don't know the first thing about me," his voice pulled away, unable to disguise the genuine pain that warped his features.

"I would…" Joey's throat formed a lump, absorbing Seto's raw emotion in a way that unsteadied his breathing, "…but you have to let me."


	12. Originate From Disruption

**_Chapter Twelve:_ **_**Originate from Disruption**_

**_/ _**__"...but you have to let me.." **/**__

"Now why would I want to do a thing like that?"

The answer, although simple, took quiet some time, and Joey hadn't had the chance to fully recover from the facedown card Kaiba hadn't realize he'd played. So there was a great deal of staring, and an even greater deal of silence, but then finally Joey's eyes seemed to over throw the expansive black spaces drowning out all hues of blue. Even though his own had narrowed into practically nothingness, they still seemed to have some sort of strength against the exposure of the other's.

"Because everything isn't always about winning," Joey said without further thought; not realizing he'd presented the statement as fact rather than awaiting the brunettes stamp of approval by fashioning it into a question.

Kaiba's expression didn't change, but his tone had become eerily even. "Easy to say when you're the one always losing," his voice ended abruptly, leaving his eyes to say the rest.

A pang stronger than Joey wanted to admit stabbed him with disappointment, but he was determined to hold what little ground he'd established. "And even easier to ignore when you've never lost." Joey cocked his head to the side, "Oh wait…"

"It was like _one_ time," Kaiba rolled his eyes, catching and redirecting the noncompliant look Joey shot in him in response. "Okay so like _four_ times. But that's it. So what?"

"So?" Joey asked, feeling all the more sorry for the stranger sitting across from him. "You're _obsessed_ with it."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am _not_."

"Oh my god." Joey stared. "Are _too_, you wont even lose this stupid conversation," he followed accusingly, " even though you sound ridiculous."

That caused Kaiba to bite his tongue, a reaction so subtle that it almost seemed natural, although Joey had never seen him do it before. In fact he hadn't _ever_ seen the brunette so susceptible, so prone to revealing these inconsistencies.

"Fine," he turned away. "So, I like to win. I'm good at it."

"And I'm really good at blackjack," the blonde raised sarcastically, "but you don't see me gambling myself broke, do you?"

"One." Kaiba began, "That was a horrid comparison." His head shook as if it were truly painful. "And two. Your whole _life_ is a gamble."

That gave Joey pause, but he didn't rise to the bait. "Good thing that's even stupider than what I said."

"More stupid," came the out of habit correction. "And I thought it was rather fitting."

Joey rolled his eyes. "Maybe if you didn't describe life in general _Mr. I'm-So-Clever_."

Suddenly Kaiba began to catch his drift however, and you could see the slightly embarrassed look that filled his eyes for the moment, despite the fact the rest of him would never give any such confirmation. Although the inside of his mind looked quiet drastically different than the composure he maintained on the surface level—it was just barely. Even Kaiba could feel the cracks and the inconsistencies, but his brain was ever bustling around to erase and correct them, and it was a thought process he couldn't prevent. However, ever flowing, the thoughts were also ever changing, and they were constantly pulling the brunette in different directions. So rather than latching on and expanding, he retraced the conversation and reevaluated its roots.

"This still doesn't explain why all of a sudden you want to get to know me."

"Well…so what if I do," Joey argued, unfazed. "Why is that so bad?"

_Because you have no idea who I am,_ Kaiba considered with a mixture of fear and sadness, but found himself overcome with relief when their waitress interrupted and saved him from answering.

_Jesus Christ,_ Joey thought loudly at everything the other boy ordered, _does Kaiba even know __**how**__ to eat? _He compared the others slim figure to his stockier build. However, four courses later and finally the brunette appeared to be content , although his eyes seemed to say that they could have added at least two or three more things—where he intended to put all that food, the blonde had yet to decide.

"Just water," Joey told her, almost confused, as he handed back the menu-watching the mischief in Kaiba's quickly redirected behavior with a blank sense of disturbance.

_Good_. Kaiba detected the unspoken confusion almost as fast as Joey himself. _I just have to keep this up and beat him at his own game. If he wants to go on some yuppy mission, then I'll give him a show._

"What are you so happy about?" Joey asked, feeling his wallet weigh down in his pocket.

But Kaiba just smiled.

Joey shook his head, "You look creepy as hell."

"Please tell me you didn't just try to be ghetto."

"Don't hate the player," Joey stretched out his arms, "Hate the game."

"You're not even owning this a little bit," Kaiba discouraged.

"But at least I'm _trying_," Joey emphasized, with a big smile full of teeth. _When it comes to expensive dates—if all else fails, buy them with a sense of humor_ he convinced himself hopefully. Even money bags had to have one…._somewhere_ in all that stone cold silence. "Unlike some—"

"I got it the first time," Kaiba cut him off, as if annoyed by what he perceived as childish.

"Does that mean you're gonna listen this time?"

"No."

"Ugh, _please_," Joey whined, feeling his calmness melt into a dependency for a consistency his mind had begun to lack.

With one leg crossed, Kaiba turned in his seat. "Oh look, the foods here!"

Conversation sank into oblivion after that, and Joey couldn't tell whether it seemed like hours or seconds that they sat there. His back seemed to slump, and yet the farther down his posture slipped, the more Kaiba began to fidget. This drowsiness wasn't uncommon, but Joey hadn't ever been around anyone when it took into effect, and it almost seemed like he could sense his defenses wearing off.

Feeling more anxious, he tried to sit still, but became unnerved by the restless repetition of Kaiba shaking his foot. The brunette had been quiet but thoughtful, not touching any of the food in front of him except to push it around his plate; and in spite of that, he seemed even more concentrated than he had before. The feeling morphed in and out of uncertain conclusions and dissolved whatever energy Joey had left.

When the bill arrived, he temporarily retained his focus, but only to be distracted by the devilish half smile that crept onto Kaiba's face as he pulled both pockets out empty. "Oops, I must have forgotten."

"You're saying that on purpose," Joey criticized, calling him out instinctively.

"But I thought we were buds now?" Kaiba implored, fluttering his lashes manipulatively. _To control the man, you must first learn to break the man._

Joey clenched his teeth and plastered a painfully sarcastic smile. "You're absolutely right, friends help each other out," he played off the other boy's tactics with every last ounce of vigor, "it sure is nice to have someone around who's there for you, _right_ Kaiba?"

The thought hit closer to home than Gozaburo ever would have let it, and yet Seto's strings couldn't shift out of the way in time to avoid the crash-landing. So the words fell around him and tangled. Mobility began to cramp, and his circulation had been suffering from nicotine fit. The chaos, in turn, left only a select few words, well one in particular, behind to be processed. _Help? _The word was both as strange and unfamiliar as it was damaging.

Especially while Kaiba watched Joey struggle with his wallet at the counter adjacent from the row of benches he sat waiting on. As Joey pulled another handful of coins form his pocket, all that came to the brunette's mind were the five digits left on their bill. _I probably never should have lied. _The boy drew his hand over the small clip of credit cards inside the breast of his jacket. _I doubt he can afford it. _

"_You still remember what that feels like, don't you?" _The sound in his subconscious was sharp and sudden—lacking all control as Mokuba's parting words played over and over again in his head, plaguing him involuntarily with a mix of memories that never belonged together.

A small, disappointed frown weighed Kaiba down guiltily after watching the blonde struggle to organize his piles incrementally. An effortless observation made it obvious to him that the currency must still be fairly unfamiliar to Joey. _He didn't even know he was supposed to have Health Insurance,_ Kaiba remembered systematically. _Who's to say he treats the rest of his life any different?_

The idea, however, became impairing, falling victim to Kaiba's overactive thought process that began to break down the disturbing visual of how inadequately the dog must have lived. The cookie cutter complexes fell in grid-like patterns of alternating rows and columns; and to Seto, Joey's apartment building started to look more like cages in a kennel. _He doesn't even know any better…_

A sad and somewhat suppressed visual popped up like a flashbulb that lit the shadowy shelves of Kaiba's library-like-memories. Involuntarily, he inhaled steadily while lowering his eyelids; and swore he could smell the sycamore trees…It was so strange how the memory of his home surfaced fresh and vivid, even though the layers of dust had been archaically accumulating on its cover for years.

"You about ready?" Joey's voice shook him, and Kaiba watched as the pages tore down the dollhouse-like-scenery, splintering the woodwork and chipping at the paint.

"I'm always ready," Kaiba said embodying his callous. He had carelessly slid the book back on a shelf, misplacing the memory somewhere out of sync.

"You look pretty lost to me."

"We're always lost," he dwelled to himself dismally.

Joey's eyes widened with childlike curiosity. "Then where do you go?"

"Nowhere."

"Nowhere?"

"Nowhere," Kaiba confirmed.

"Ever?"

"Never."

Joey insatiably drank in the sentiment of Kaiba's subtle sincerity. Never satisfied when the soft sound stopped, he coaxed the conversation on with colorless eyes until both of them were drowning; rocking back and forth between the waves they were now walking along.

"How do you find your way back?"

Delicate memories were fading in and out of focus, and Kaiba let go; knowing all too well he'd soon forget where he'd left them. "You don't."

"But don't you want to go home?"

"You can't," Kaiba released another empty sigh, refusing to look back.

"Ever?" Joey asked dishearteningly.

And then Kaiba lost complete sight of them. "Never."

**_-.-.-_**

Even once he was safe inside the walls of his apartment, the exhaustion still took hold of Joey like no other. Sighing, he collapsed onto his mattress. Pulling several things out from his pocket, he tossed his Red Eyes to the side, _Some help you were_, he rolled his eyes at the inanimate object, while fumbling to undo the container between his palms. Somehow he'd lost his cool and Kaiba seemed to have gained an unspoken advantage that was causing his decrease in comfort to transform into anxiety.

The spiral wasn't devastating, but Joey had seen what it could turn into before, and he never wished to wake up in a hospital room with Kaiba waiting on the other side somewhere ever again. So he counted on his fingers how many he had taken that day, and granted himself the leeway for this one extra. _Only because it's an emergency_.

This, this _wager_ he'd contracted had turned on him like a tidal wave and yet he couldn't even decide in what direction it came from. He had asked all the right questions, and kept up with Kaiba almost until the end—but his confidence had tripped over the sensitive breaks in their conversation. The brunette was uncannily uncharacteristic, and notions of progress became quickly lost within the currents that lacked all continuity.

Without consistency, Joey's heart thumped out of rhythm, and beat towards the structured shores of Kaiba's subconscious, wishing desperately to wash up onto them; however, even that definite desire began to distort when he found that confidence had collided and casted shadows of doubt. For the most part, the brunette was everything Joey had expected from someone with a pedigree—he was cavalier, disinterested, and he refused to look desperate. Even when it was so obvious that there was something…something _else_ hidden behind those smirks and smiles, the unusual words that were offered by the brunette willingly seemed too cryptic to decode.

_He just doesn't say things like that,_ Joey stared up towards the ceiling emptily, replacing the uncertain wriggling of his lips with a cigarette to focus on. _And I thought he said he didn't ask questions?_ Joey yawned reflectively, feeling his eyes growing heavier under the relaxed pressure of his medicine draining the unwanted apprehension.

It was true that Kaiba had claimed, very clearly in fact, that he didn't need to ask questions because he was the one giving all the answers—and yet he had asked so many. Even scarier yet, he answered even more. Well, perhaps it wasn't justifiable to call most of his responses _answers_, but conversation, whether productive or not, still seemed to have more merit than silence. _Why did he have to say all that at the end though?_ Joey wondered, watching smoke form in a series of circles overhead. _And why did I play along?_

The vague and unprovoked references to home had disturbed the guilt towards leaving that Joey hadn't yet reconciled, despite therapy or his so called miracles. No, not even his armor could deflect the bullets that home gunned him down with, and the wounds were all reopening.

In this longing, forlorn sort of way it made him wish they were back there, so that maybe then this situation could start to look more familiar. _I guess this situation wouldn't exist then though_ he realized, almost sadly, but more than dejected he felt overwhelmed with fear. The fear of impermanence. The fear of losing everything.

_Kaiba isn't everything though_, he dragged his cigarette and corrected himself simultaneously. _He's not even everything I have. _Then his thoughts unthinkingly came to terms with the fact that, _Without Mokuba…Kaiba is hardly anything at all._ That seemed truthful too, as sad and almost pathetic as it sounded, but Joey knew only of Kaiba the things that he had decided himself. Even the brunette had said as much when Joey tried to peal back one of his layers, and perhaps it was truer than even Kaiba realized; because he had started to stop making sense.

Just that statement alone contradicted everything Joey had ever cataloged about the brunette, and after denying it was even possible for the other duelist to err for so long, the reality of it refused to align. But then it dawned on him that Seto Kaiba was nowhere near his little brother, and that notion was even stranger than the first. Not unlike his sister and himself, the one didn't go without the other. Like two working halves a whole, it was no wonder both of them seemed so broken; they were missing their other halves. A comparison Joey would never draw lightly.

But his head was feeling awfully heavy and he had gone ahead and drawn it, as well as a second cigarette, even though he'd practically let the first burn out from neglect. It just made too much sense; Mokuba was sort of like a mood ring—at least that's how Joey had come to look at it. Because the only time you could see any expression resembling certain emotion was in the reactions they produced in the younger Kaiba. And even then it was so hard to read Kaiba because sometimes Mokuba didn't need to _'figure out'_ what was going through the brunette's head, he already knew

Somewhere in mid-thought Joey flooded into scenes of Serenity—the sister he'd left behind—and the second biggest connection he could make between Kaiba and himself aside from chancing to meet here in the first place. It was actually kind of weird how he drew the parallel of being an older brother between them after putting together how many times he'd seen Mokuba treat his elder like Joey treated Serenity, and vice versa. They were all the other had…and that was as much as Joey concluded, and as human as he'd ever admit Kaiba could be.

Ignorance is bliss however, and acting natural about something is the biggest oxymoron since jumbo shrimp. There was nothing natural about pretending, and no amount of acting that could make Joey's last remarks sincere. So the self-confidence faltered against the grounds by which it had none to stand, and the rest transposed.

Technicolor waves of blue seemed to protest as they bounced off the backs of Joey's restlessly, but the colors refused each other. Contradictory to earlier, he felt like even Seto's _eye color_ was too good to mingle with the hazel hues that scattered unevenly like constellations in his irises. Focusing in on his rivals qualities so intricately made him shudder, almost in embarrassment, but he couldn't help how unnaturally Kaiba could will the currents to fit his motives so smugly, and yet swallow even the most microscopic signs of life…

And for a second he imagined Kaiba in the middle of the ocean, as if his eyes really were layers of sea-floor that got deeper and darker the further you went down; _and knowing Kaiba, I'm sure his ocean would have the __**most**__ layers too_. Joey smirked at the excessive perfectionist always proving he was still as rich and successful as yesterday—as if anyone ever questioned it. Joey's mouth couldn't hold the upward arch for long though, because he noticed that the brunette's typically disconnected demeanor had caused him to place Kaiba completely alone. Even though he knew that Kaiba intentionally put the distance between himself and any human interaction. That was _people _though, so it was different—but these oceanic currents had not a single fish—not even algae; and even worse, his rival's silhouette just kind of hovered, levitating over the endless body of water.

_Why couldn't he have pulled up in a big yacht, just to insult me? _The blonde wondered uncomfortably at the sight of deeper significance, but it became another backwards way of questioning why his mind hadn't structured the visual accordingly—why it didn't match up with the file stamped _"Asshole" _in his brain. But there was no yacht, not even a raft; there wasn't anything, and even Joey didn't know if it was a still-frame or a movie that was materializing through out his brain anymore. There was no wind—absolutely no sound, and the water didn't so much as ripple—nor did Kaiba's replica do anything but stare straight ahead into nothing.

Scarily accurate, Joey really felt like this was a scene he had witnessed because his memory drew Kaiba's symmetry flawlessly; but he wasn't quiet sure what it meant until he realized that even in such dangerous waters, Kaiba didn't need anything. And when Joey tried to peer down into those same waters, he retracted with an almost envious sadness; there was no reflection….and he realized how real the emptiness was beneath the emotionless executive…how truly alone…

It was like he didn't even need himself.

**_-.-.-_**

_Home_.

Kaiba played around with the word in his mouth even after leaving the ideas behind. The look in Joey's eyes was following him, and with it, it was dragging fragments. Or perhaps it was him pulling them along, he'd lost sight of that distinction though as the thoughts began to clot where they once were fluid.

Reaching into his pocket, Kaiba's fingers brushed guiltily past his credit cards on the way to his pack; he could hear the last few cigarettes restlessly sliding as he rummaged past them for his lighter. The smoke didn't feel as good as earlier and kept blowing backwards through his hair. It seemed to illuminate a trail that the brunette found himself too tempted to follow; and for a moment, the waves sounded as delicate as piano keys pressing down in overlapping strokes.

It was still too sensitive, but how could he deny it was alive? He could feel it-a song he'd never written, but somehow he was repeating back the words. They merged with Mokuba's and Seto's thoughts became a symphony of smoke and seaweed, drowning in the spotlight of hazel that was invisible to the night. With every vital sign failing but constantly resuscitating, his senses still felt sharp as ever when the smell of sycamore flooded his nostrils, confusing him internally as the roots broke and the branches rebuilt the floorboards of Joey's apartment. The images didn't fit and yet they were entangled in a tree that turned to glass.

_Home._

The word resurfaced as if commanded and upon his next step—it shattered. Shards of animosity swirled with smoke and he felt his body pivot despite his better judgment. This was intuitive though—automatic and uninhibited. Kaiba couldn't refuse it; something had melted softly in the pit of his stomach, and he felt his emotions go tame. Too long had he been fighting this, the cool rush had startled the enraged, egotistical flames burning behind flame resistant irises, and the glossy-marble-blue rings poured down like buckets.

Not tears, metaphorically speaking _maybe_, but he couldn't even remember what it felt like to cry, as if the action had been deleted from memory. Nevertheless, the shock extinguished Kaiba's dominant elations and consumed the flames, replacing said intensity with transpiring smoke screens that temporarily obscured his vision. Throwing off his natural order, the waves were dousing his defenses, and had posed a threat to Kaiba's ability to predetermine a strategic advance; he was already taking the stairs in twos, archaic instincts had taken Darwinian action instead, making survival the only objective.

__Knock-Knock-Knock. _There was no going back._

Groggily, two reddened eyes popped out from the darkness, and Joey's footsteps were softly creaking from side to side in confusion. The brunette felt the stabbing rush of his heartbeat racing against his ribcage, and the eyes that had followed him had found their way back to his face.

The words came out in a misplaced rush, "So tomorrows my birthday."

"You're…birthday?" Joey was yawning, trying to hold the words down as he covered his mouth with one hand.

The question offset him. "Yes. October 25th. Tomorrow," he spoke choppily in fragments. "My birthday."

Joey's eyes readjusted then widened, "Your _birthday!_" He exclaimed as if he should have remembered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm telling you right now."

"Well, why?"

"Because," the brunette chewed his bottom lip, "It's something about me."

"So it is," Joey crossed his arms snuggly, leaning into the frame of the door. "A pretty big something."

"No." The red tint in the blonde's eyes almost glistened. "It's just a day," Kaiba rationalized. "It's no bigger than any other."

Joey's jaw unhinged. "But it's your _birthday!"_

"Comes every year," he shrugged awkwardly. "So?"

_"So_ we should be celebrating," Joey rocked his body forward to refrain from falling asleep. "They did program birthdays into you, right?"

"Standing right here," Kaiba rolled his eyes. "Not a robot."

Joey narrowed his eyes skeptically. "I still have my doubts."

The comment received another eye roll. "I don't know why I bother."

"Your circuits are rerouting, duh."

"_Still_ not a robot."

"Okay _Mr. Still Not A Robot_," Joey chimed, with this newfound amusement for coining nicknames. "So you know we're going out tomorrow, right?"

"Oh, second date?" Kaiba chirped, feigning excitement.

"Quit the shit," Joey turned lazily, rolling along the doorframe inside against the wall. "Come on in," his foot held the door open just far enough for Kaiba's fingers to grab onto.

"What for?" the unfamiliarity of the invitation raised caution.

"Planning," came another yawn from the other side of the darkness.

"Planning?"

"Yeah," his fingers fumbled with a switch, "You like that sort of thing, don't you?"

Joey watched the confusion of Kaiba's face forming uncertainly around the skepticism that he was being insulted. "Well…yes," he offered, still unconvinced, but stepping into the threshold.

The apartment was just as pathetic as he remembered and even more poorly kept that he recreated. There were no pictures present, not that he had any up at his place either, but Joey just seemed like he should harbor some kind of keepsake. All the brunette found, however, was an air mattress with disheveled sheets and a balled up comforter. _He was asleep_, he thought stupidly. Then shook his head to himself at an angle escaping Joey's line of vision, and let his own fall in synchronized patterns around the rest of the space. It didn't take long, and there wasn't much there, but he saw so much in that short time. From the bed to the floorboards, there were random trails of ashes, some sprinkled, some disrupted, but they were everywhere. Empty packs of _Marlboro Menthol_ lay in crumbled piles of green and white packaging, crunched in the middle as if a fist had surrounded, and suffocated them. The site disturbed him, but made him stay—patiently listening as Joey plopped down, clearly leaving it to the brunette to make himself comfortable.

"So how old?" Joey looked him up and down curiously, lazy eyes not fully forming.

"We're definitely the age."

"No we're not."

"Yes," he stared at him strangely. "We are."

"You're a year older than us," Joey corrected him, with unhindered certainty. "I remember."

"Remember what?"

"When you transferred."

The brunette almost smiled, "How do you still remember that?" It was such a random instance to recall amidst their current predicament.

"Really?" Joey's stare was as familiar as it was somber though. "You do make _quiet_ an impression."

This time the redness was a shade too strong for concealing, and the idea of attention made the CEO shy, but his medication hadn't worn off completely. So although flustered, he made a convincing redirect of both his eyes and his words. "Look who's talking."

"For real?"

"For _real."_

"Trench-coats," Joey challenged.

Kaiba had no choice but to accept. "Dog tags."

"Personal," Joey scowled. "_Locket_."

The brunette's face scrunched, awkwardly not in severe offense. "You really wanna go there, Wheeler?"

"Oh, I went there," the other boy rocked forward provokingly.

"Fine," Kaiba caught his lips in a cool grin. "_Yo-yo's._"

"Not cool."

"Not my problem," he replied.

Joey's confidence fell clearly under the shade of crimson as he withdrew.

"No pun intended," Kaiba grinned, "But I do believe I just _walked the dog._"

_"Yeah,_ so this is the impression I was talking about," Joey rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well at least I'm unforgettable," the brunette shrugged, with an almost playful face that continued to twist in and out of expressions Joey had never known existed.

"That you are," Joey agreed with wide eyes, "that you are."

"Good," Kaiba's face scrunched spontaneously, "You do know you definitely could have just added a year onto how old you are by the way, right?"

Joey found himself laughing. "_Wow!" _

_"Yeah,"_ the grin transferred to the other boy, "And here's that impression that _I _was talking about."

Joey rolled his eyes. "So let me guess, does that make me the forgotten?"

"Not by me."

"Well that's not comforting."

"_You're_ not comforting."

"Awe," Joey's shoulders pinched upward to his ears, "Did you want my shoulder to cry on?"

"I'd just prefer Kleenex," Kaiba didn't seem to catch the joke, eyeing the blonde strangely and seriously once again.

"Trick question!" Joey shouted over him, "Robots can't cry!"

"You never cease to amuse yourself, do you?"

Joey reached over for an ashtray, knocking down various plastic water bottles and crumbled sheets of notebook paper form his nightstand. "No, not really," he grinned, scooting backward to prop his back upright against the wall. "You know you're allowed to sit down," his eyes gestured from a chair to a space on the edge of the bed.

Kaiba had to force his lips from curling in the slightest disgust, envisioning the ashes that were probably folded throughout the covers. "I like to stand," he answered instead, feeling it was easier to answer with avoidance.

"Yeah, yeah," Joey waved both hands, balancing his cigarette as he spoke, "Don't be such a priss."

"Don't call me names," the brunette scowled, unhappily edging his way over.

Joey noted him sitting down stiffly, "First time on an air-mattress?"

Yet the sarcasm escaped the brunette once again, who's palms were planted uncomfortably at his sides, "Yeah," he breathed out.

"So tell us," Joey held an invisible microphone out to Kaiba mockingly, "What's it like?"

"You are five years old," the elder boy pushed away the blonde's hand.

"Ah, so then you'll be turning six?" Joey asked. "This explains a lot."

But there was an unflinching discomfort that spread through the features across from him, and Kaiba seemed to avoid it all together. "So, about this planning," he insisted, "its almost half past midnight already."

"Well maybe you should have thought of that earlier," Joey shot him a no-brainer look.

The flat, unappreciative expression confirmed that the CEO recognized the fault was his own. "So I'm not so good as this whole spontaneity thing," he admitted sardonically, "But at least I'm _trying_, remember?"

"Good memory," the blonde smiled at the choice of quoting.

"Better than yours," Seto's eyes slid to the sandcastle of ashes unevenly collecting underneath his cigarette filter.

"_God_-," Joey's voice rose and fell before releasing the _damn-it_. "That was my last one."

Observing the innocent frustration on Joey's face, an identical pack reached out into the space between them, "Here, have one of mine."

"_Amazinggg,"_ the blonde's face lifted in surprise, and even more surprisingly to Kaiba's satisfaction.

"_Ah-ah,"_ he inched it backwards and Joey's fingers flinched, "On _one_ condition," he said firmly. _"No_ balloons."

"Okay, got it weirdo."

"I'm serious," Seto withdrew the pack once more, leaving the other boy to pout as his both of his eyes traced the backwards projectile. "None at all."

Redirecting his eyes in annoyance, Joey looked up at the unfaltering solemnity staring back at him. "Wait, are you afraid of balloons?"

"It's a perfectly rational fear!" he replied in a prominent rush of oxygen and noise which dropped into the dimensions of a whisper, "they're dangerous."

"Are you afraid they'll hear you too?" Joey whispered back loudly.

Kaiba threw the pack at Joey this time. "Well way to be a dick about it."

"Uhm," Joey stared back blatantly as he accepted the cigarette from the pack that had slid down his chest, "Way to be afraid of _balloons_."

"Okay, you know what, you could accidently swallow one, or it could deflate and shoot into your eyes," the brunette spoke quickly to the widening spheres of black and hazel that had gone more pink than red now. "And, and _animals_," he added nervously, but with that heat of the moment assuredness. "They can be extremely hazards to health and habitats."

"...You have clearly put a lot of thought into this," Joey drew his cigarette disbelievingly to the side, "I rest my case. No balloons."

"Oh thank god," Kaiba sighed as if Joey had been trying to push a Chuckie-Cheese party onto him for chrissake. "I hate them so much."

"_Richy-Rich_ fact number two," Joey announced. "Fears party décor."

"Not true," Kaiba reached for the pack, getting lost in the back and forth banter that seemed to swallow their conversations recently. "Streamers are very nice."

"Oh are they?"

"Yes, no assembly, and endless possibilities."

"Hell, what are you in business for?" Joey asked. "Interior Decorator seems much more fitting."

There was no correction this time however, and Kaiba released that muffled mixture of muttering and throat clearing that represented laughter, "Oh yeah," he kept his grin from going anywhere, "I'm a regular Martha Stewart."

"_Fact Number Three,"_ Joey stated, curiously this time, "_Robots know sarcasm."_

He did however receive a slap on the side of the head for that, but Kaiba made sure to do it gently, something he may not have withheld a year ago. "I hate it when you call me that."

"No, I know," Joey smiled widely, ruffling his hair back into place.

Rolling his eyes painfully, Kaiba redirected them to his watch face. "Well its officially one in the morning—I have a conference call in three hours."

"But we didn't even plan anything yet," came the anticipated complaint.

Kaiba stood up though, the distance between ingestion and his medicine growing lengthier as the effects disappeared into autopilot. Glancing back before twisting the brass knob on the door, the brunette's head wavered from side to side, undecidedly smiling.

"Surprise me."

**__**_ _ _x-*-.X.-*-x_ _ _**__**

_**eek. reviews por favor? sorry again, lol sometimes I think parts of the dialogue are more so amusing the way I read them aloud in my head hah. buuut yeah, reviews would be appreciated like whoaaa. What the hell? 'RV 4 RV' bahah [[review-for-review]]-i'll bring back some classic 'Myspace'-bulletin-subject headline deals. [[and for those of you born past the myspace-was-cool-and-facebook-didn't-exist-phase of life-it means if you leave me a review, I'll leave you a review on one of your stories. hah basically you'll receive a review AND a reader-two for one.]]**  
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**_also, as if it were 'that' important, but after this is: Chapter Thirteen: Another Year Older._**


	13. Another Year Older

**_Sooo, have I ever mentioned how much I love all my readers? I swear you guys leave me the nicest damn comments that I've ever read, and I really appreciate that you guys took the time to write them out!_**

_So, to **SnowCrazy15:** One. YES! Thank you for loving my chapter endings...because they even make ME crazy sometimes because I'm always like, "damn it morgan, where's the next chapter!?" Two. HOLY SHIT, thank you so much, that is honestly so flattering to hear that about my writing-_my long-winded-run-on-sentence-poetic-bullshit as I often consider it! lol and also especially cause___ I just posted on your story to tell you how I envied yours. I hope this chapter is to your liking as well! It's a bit mores silly. _

_To ** :**_ _**divine. infekt: **__Ahhh, oh my goodness, if you really recommended this story then that is so awesome, you don't even know! lol so far the only recommendations I got were from forcing my sister to tell people to read mine on her fanfic hahah. And yes, yes, yessss-glad you love their crazy, disjoining banter because I can't even stop writing it, and I'm always nervous it doesn't read as well because it's all in my talking style lol. And hellyeahhh, because I'm especially surprised that someone else would appreciate the whole 'medicine' thing because I figured most people would be like "Uh, what the fuck?" But yeah, I have gone in and out of medication stuff and a lot of this is actually taken from my real life experiences-the adderall mostly. ANYWAYS! Thank you so much, enjoy the next chapter, haha and don't worry sometimes I get lost in my own writing too, always wondering if it actually makes any sense to anyone lol_

_To **yllimilly: **Okay, soo I see you're on chapter four! Which is awesome because it's definitely one of my favorite, favorite chapters; so, in that sense it's really nice to see such positive feedback towards the flashbacks and the incorporation of Mai. I know the flashbacks can sometimes be spread out, and also that a lot of 'puppy shippers' legit hate the existence of women in their fics lol but I feel as if it's natural. And no worries, lol I just started one of yours as well (although now that i think about it...you probably won't see this comment for like a month...damn it)...well my point was that I will being doing the same!_

_To **YOU KNOW WHO; AKA: my crazy roommate: **bahahah JILLINOIS (you will hate me for that) I am glad however, that we spent our entire first night back getting drunk and reading our stories in silence while Frodo giggled around with Sam Wise and friends-like WHAT? haha and JESUS, all these reviews, they legit kill me every time I read them because there are A MILLION-and also THANK YOU. FOR. **FINALLY**. APPRECIATING MY SHITTY MAJOR! bahah now you understand the only reason I'm in it...(so i can write yugioh fan fiction..FOREVER) lol teehee, any who this is the weirdest comment to post visibly...soooo yeah. loveeee youuu!_

_**Alright everybody! Get ready for a progressively fun chapter-full of much and more dialogue instead of eight thousand philosophical paragraphs for once lol. At first I was a little unsure about this chapter, but the more I re-read it, the most I kind of love the way it turned out. **  
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_**-.-.-.**_

_Chapter Thirteen:_ _**Another Year Older…**_

"There's no way in hell I'm wearing this."

"Oh where's your sense of culture." Joey tried his best to keep his features from shifting any farther from seriousness, but failed miserably as he watched Kaiba look down at the t-shirt held across the front of his chest.

"_Birthday Bitch_," he stared back disbelievingly, leaving the question implied.

Joey shrugged, "I thought it added a little something."

"I'm almost afraid to ask if you bought me a present."

"Oh, well then be _very_ afraid," Joey grinned, patting down on the plastic bag that hung from his forearm.

"A matching tiara perhaps?" Kaiba peered over, inspecting around the see-through sides of crinkled, tan plastic.

"I'm sensing some suppressed birthday fantasy here," the blonde pulled the bag away teasingly.

"Oh, princess? Definitely," Kaiba turned away, neatly folding the shirt into a perfect pile.

Joey stared thoughtfully at the shirt, overshadowed by sarcasm. "And yet you insist that _I'm_ the one in need of therapy."

The other boy stiffened purposefully. "Hence the fact that you're the one _in _it," he remarked dully, "but please, can we not go there today?"

"Oh." It was as stupid sound. A stupid sound coming from a stupid mouth, but a sound that persisted amidst the irregularity of the atmosphere, an irregularity that had become somewhat constant, and oh-so devastating.

"Besides," Kaiba applied his effortless skill to redirect, "I thought today was supposed to be about me…" He paused uncertainly, "my birthday, you know—that sort of stuff."

At first the blonde seemed to bluster up, but as he took in the other's words and features his exterior softened, "I understand."

A challenging look sailed across the room. "Do you?"

The tone itself seemed to push Joey back with two strong hands, and yet he was still standing. "When's the last time you celebrated your birthday?"

The almost shy, embarrassed smile came as a relief, however, when Kaiba's intonation dropped. "A long time."

"Hmm…_fact number…" _

"I swear," Kaiba interjected, "I'm like _this_ close to kicking you out."

A deep sigh met the response. "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"I don't know, you just always try to dominate everything."

For some reason Kaiba laughed at this. "Dominate? _Right_."

"Are you learning how to tell jokes, or I'm going deaf?" Joey stared disbelievingly.

"Oh yeah I've been practicing," blue eyes rolled back. "Do you think before you talk? Or does it all just spill out?"

Although he'd slightly touched a nerve and caused the blonde to sputter, "No…I just, I don't know, I think too much to organize it. Plus, what's the point of having a conversation if you plan it in advance?"

The brunette's eyebrow rose like the statement was the weirdest thing he'd ever heard, "So you know what will happen."

"That's stupid."

"No, it's smart."

"How?" Joey quarreled, "You're never gonna learn anything reading from a script."

"Why would I want to learn from anyone? That's what school is for."

"Jesus Kaiba, its called human interaction, who says shit like that?"

"Me apparently," Kaiba sighed disinterestedly.

"Oh, apparently? You mean you didn't' already prepare your answer?"

"_Ohmygod._" Kaiba released the most angst filled sigh the blonde had ever heard from Mr. Put Together. "Why do you take everything I say so literally? Am I not allowed to speak figuratively? Oh that's right. No, you'll go off and cry about it."

"Yeah get me some Kleenex," Joey spoke dryly, "I'm about to bawl my eyes out."

Any trace of adolescent normalcy disappeared behind another irritated eye roll and Kaiba didn't entertain the blonde's remark under his cloak of adulthood.

"Relax yourself," Joey spoke up uncharacteristically, feeling the small immature outburst triggering the older brother in him, "It was just a question."

"Yeah, I picked up on that, good thing I taught myself punctuation too!" his eyes widened in mock excitement.

"You sound like my sister," Joey groaned, "Can't you just be normal for like twenty whole minutes?"

"This _is_ me being normal," Kaiba said insistently.

"No, you're defensive as fuck," Joey widened his eyes with an awkward smile. "And you complain _way_ more than I imagined."

"Ew, why are you imaging me?"

"_Ew_?" Joey asked after the squeak that folded Kaiba's face into an innocent sort of revulsion. "Are you eight? Do I have cooties or something?"

The folds turned down in a very thoughtful confusion. "What are cooties?"

"That was you being an asshole right?"

"Why would I ask you a question if I wanted to be an asshole?" He asked absurdly. "Conversing is stupid."

"Were you _ever_ normal?"

"Who's definition of normal are we going by?"

"I feel like I'm on trial," Joey groaned, "Stop answering with questions!"

"Then how will I ever lear_nnnn_ anything," Kaiba mocked annoyingly.

"Does your brother hate you?" Joey asked amazed, "You are impossible to compromise with."

"That's because I don't settle."

"_Dominating_," Joey coughed to the side.

"I'm not." the brunette gritted his teeth.

Joey repeated the gesture, "_Bullshit and lies_."

"God, and you have the nerve to say I'm disagreeable, does _your_ sister hate _you?_" Kaiba stared, "You're an idiot."

Joey shrugged, "You're the one talking to a dog."

"Ah—" The brunette paused, mouth in mid air…"Touche."

Then stillness; the mood was playful and the atmosphere was light, but the feeling never lasted. Instead, Kaiba couldn't help but pull the details down into place and begin to over-analyze them. Losing all optimism to acrimonious elements of thought, the brunette tried to reach the understanding of why he'd ever gone to Joey's the night before. Why he continuously rendered himself defenseless against the carefree-carpe-diem that he couldn't understand. This just wasn't rational. It didn't make sense.

There was nothing to gain—so what was he trying to keep up for?

Releasing a heavy sigh, Kaiba's eyes swept over the bag dangling from the other's arm. _He didn't need to __**get**__ me anything,_he considered guiltily, unable to draw the simple connection of a kind gesture. Nothing was that simple; and no one had gotten him a present that wasn't his brother in years. _Years, _his mind reiterated as if it were easily forgotten. _It's been __**years**__._ Glancing towards Joey, who now held him thoughtfully in his gaze, the brunette felt small and almost helpless. He felt as if time began withdrawing, or that, perhaps, it had never gone forward; and he was still six years old.

"_So then you'll be turning six?" _the joke translated into the most unintentional slight when he allowed himself to listen to it. _If you only knew_… Kaiba sighed as his heart muscles clenched and shot off in acceleration, hardly able to finish the thought…_how right you really are. _In truth, it was as if he'd never grown up, never gotten the _chance_ to, but at the same time that innocence had been compromised.

In theory, six was supposed to symbolize the most congruent, single-digit number, at least he'd read that somewhere in his endless search for answers and explanations. _Numerology_, he recalled, _what a joke. _Immediately, the openness turned dismissive without consent, and Kaiba wanted nothing more than to smash the number's symmetry into inconsistent smithereens. _It deserves to be as "together" as it left me,_ he thought bitterly, back in time, back to the last birthday he could remember—the one he never got the chance to celebrate. **Six**—it felt as if he were constantly turning the same, small, unsound age—like he was continuously reliving the disfiguration…

_Who sends balloons to a funeral? _His frown fell visibly now, but the blonde was too buried in a cigarette to notice. _Balloons are for celebrating, not for saying goodbye…not like that, _he sighed, sinking in and out of the five second scene of black and gray balloons, all bound together, disappearing behind a heavy, red-brown door as it closed the space. _It was the wake_, he corrected the lapse in accuracy out of habit, _not the funeral. _However, the adjustment did little to dissuade the end result, and he could still see those stupid, floating spheres—all bouncy and full of life as they continued to suck the breath from the lungs on either side of them…

And then Kaiba had to force a refrain, emitting a stifled breath, and reaching two fingers to his wrist, counting as the Adderall systematically erased the same thoughts they'd created. That last part seemed lost to Kaiba though, that simple 'cause and effect' he miscalculated in between the quick pace palpitations beneath his fingertips.

Calmer with his mind back in control, but unable to muster enough courage, Kaiba fell back into _six_; and as wide, but clouded crystal eyes traced the motions of Joey forming perfect rings of smoke, he wished there was someway to let the blonde now how hard this was. How scared his birthday made him. How incomplete the number six left him. How he didn't know why he ever mentioned it to him. How it had been well over ten years, how he forbid even Mokuba from disclosing it, or how the real reason he was afraid of balloons was because they reminded him of dying.

Saddened eyes swirled centripetally with the circle of smoke drifting weightlessly off the mindless motions of the boy's mouth. Sighing, his sight spun unevenly as the air pushed and pulled the shape. From a perfect circle to disjoining wisps, the disruption drew him more deeply into the slightly shaded auras that had once again looked up through tousled bangs to find him.

"You okay?" The boy shifted his weight, never disconnecting from the evident opening.

_No._ "Mind your own business," he replied instead, knowing soon he'd crank up the features of his mask and smother the truth as always. However, the truth had already slipped between the plastic and the plasma, and given cause to panic; realizing that 'how' required a 'why'—the second part of the conclusion he'd never reached.

"We're _buds _now," Joey downplayed the chill with familiar phrases. "Your business _is_ my business. Remember?"

But the words didn't seem so brilliant now that someone else was saying them. "One step at a time, Wheeler," he meant to employ critically, but wound up deciding the statement to himself instead.

Joey rolled his eyes. "Yes, master." His intonation echoed dryly.

"I appreciate the title," Kaiba reached out and obnoxiously ruffled the blonde's hair before turning towards the door. "You really are man's best-friend aren't you?"

"Hey!" Joey exclaimed, leaping out of his seat; red faced and only footfalls behind. "What the hell!"

The elder boy drew a tasteful onyx dress coat from an ashen coat rack that was twisted into the shape of a tree; extending three branches flecked in gold paint for arms. "Don't be such a baby," he grinned, watching Joey collect his things angrily.

"Yeah well, easy with the 'dog' shit okay?"

Kaiba laughed in spite of himself, "You said _dog shit._"

Anger transitioned apathetically into flat, empty eye contact. "Now who's immature?"

Several slender appendages rose blamelessly above the brunette's head, "Hey! I'm not the one who called myself one earlier."

"So you took that _seriously_?"

"Well you _are_ wearing _dog_ tags," the brunette continued, dancing through conversation without the deadweight of his ever-distracted memory reels. They were always out of place and never quiet in sync; and although he could deconstruct them in his sleep, he had little to no control over them. They played and paused as they pleased, child-proofing the settings of rewind and fast-forward that Seto constantly fought to be in control of.

"Oh these?" Joey lifted the chain sarcastically; "Thank God you knew how to ID me without my collar."

"Collar?" Kaiba whistled. "Now who's the one with the suppressed fantasy?"

"Gross."

"_Yeah_," the brunette cocked his head observantly. "You couldn't pull off the tail."

"Well thanks for confirming that," the blonde dismissed, feeling self-conscience, and hot in the face.

"What else are _robots_ for?"

Joey's eyes rolled back so far that they seemed to disappear. "Shut up."

.-.-

The sun was setting by the time they'd made any distance and the sky was sinking into shades of indigo and violent; weaving unevenly through streaks of fiery tangerine as the waves of light died out into a new frequency. Joey felt calmly upset, but confident, slinking easily from underneath the weight of their last squabble; in order to see clearly, he had to learn to disengage, he couldn't let Kaiba's stealthy tactics sneak up on him if he wanted this to work. And it _had_ to work, he couldn't screw up Kaiba's birthday, not when he was so close.

Drifting downward, Joey's eyes fell to the plastic bag that bounced against his thigh with every step, and fought persistently against the wind's attempts to rip it right from his hands. Five fingers furled even more tightly around the handle that was growing damp with perspiration and Joey continuously secured and re-secured the same un-threatened grip.

This had become important to him, as of late though, and he had already developed the fear of losing it; but he couldn't watch Kaiba disappear now. Not when he was on his way. Not when…when things were how they were now. After all, he'd won, hadn't he? He'd earned himself the security he so desperately lacked—the stability he'd long since tipped the scales between; and his medication was only making it easier to embrace the strange taste of tension—it had quickly become his favorite flavor.

It looked like the ocean and felt like the sky—warm, salty, and heavier than anything he'd ever tried to hold; and yet it dissolved weightlessly on his tongue, as fleeting as a breeze sweeping through clouds, too transparent to touch. _And now I'm treating Kaiba like Poetry,_ Joey reevaluated his own unprovoked comparison with embarrassment that he slunk right back under. _I would've been better off with the collar,_ he released a groan, met by further silence.

The stripes of orange had segued into scarlet, and then fallen beneath the pitch-black blanket of stars that swallowed the sun deep into the skyline. The brunette had hardly noticed the shift in scenery however, because he'd become entranced with his own feet. Following each footfall in a straightforward pattern helped distract him from the unnerving splashing of the lake turning inside out against itself in every conceivable direction.

_Focus, focus_, he repeated in sync with his muscles releasing and contracting beneath his weight. _Just stay focused, and you wont miss a beat._ Although he'd already missed three and his chest was rising so rapidly it had begun to lag; palpitating in place of constant motion, suddenly it was seeming more and more like his birthday every second.

The thumping and the beating had been organic once, back when his lungs had given out, when his pulse began to pound against his chest like a fist. That was then though, this was now, and the sensation was self-instilled—the insincerely honest combination of chemicals and consciousness that threw him back and forth from Jekyll to Hyde. Yet, in some sick, demented way, he liked to feel the empty pauses between heartbeats—the way the acceleration made him shiver—it helped remind him that he was still alive without forcing him to feel anything that was real.

Joey was real though…_A real pain in the ass_, Kaiba announced in his head, bearing no malice or conviction—which allowed his brain to carry it off and twist it into every possible shape. Shapes that he'd seen morph in and out of each other uncertainly for weeks, unable to keep up as Joey jumped from Point A., to B., to C. with no discernable motives.

Exhaling, his fingers fell around his cigarettes. _Another year older—another year wiser…_at least that'd how the saying goes, but Kaiba found the latter lacking validity. Another year older? Yes. But Wiser? It was under much and more debate lately. What the hell was he doing anyways? Where was his head at? He knew this game—so why couldn't he play? Why couldn't he detach? He had always relied on himself—had always counted on the only person who couldn't let him down; yet, here he was, standing alongside Joey, sharing a cigarette as if it were second nature.

"Whatcha' thinkin' about?" Joey asked, bobbing his head along curiously.

"That I don't feel much different than I did yesterday," he sighed.

The blonde took the cigarette, "_Bah-hum-bug."_

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "I was trying to be serious."

"Kaiba, if birthdays were about 'being serious' then no one would _celebrate_ them."

"But you _just_ said earlier…"

"…I'm not following…" Joey looked skeptically into space as he interrupted uncooperatively.

Kaiba shrugged into his jacket, feeling scorned. "Whatever."

"Just let loose for once," Joey merely smiled, nudging the other boy lightly with his elbow. "Even _you_ must get tired of being so serious all the time."

"I'm not serious." The older boy lied; he'd _always_ been serious. "I just don't like unnecessary things."

"Like…_fun_…?" The blonde trailed off

"What is it with you and thinking I can't have fun?" Kaiba shook his head.

"Uhm, I hope that was rhetorical…"

"Fuck off," the brunette flipped his hair out of his eyes, "I thought today was supposed to be about me, remember?" He argued, with the slightest traces of a pout

"There's the Kaiba I know," Joey said grinning, almost swinging a friendly arm around Seto before losing the gesture in the motions of a stretch.

The other boy glanced, but made no comment. Truth be told—if anything—they were a work in progress; progress that either stalled inevitably or shot forwards inconceivably, but neither were graspable, and the brunette feared that perhaps the intangibility was the failure of his medicine taking effect.

As the concrete took a spiraling series of turns through the park, they re-emerged in a continuous series of smoke and sighs. Neither spoke, but this had become a normalcy—a sort of conversational paralysis they fell into after they'd said too much, or when they had too much to say. So far these episodes had ranged in severity, anywhere from a mild thirty-minutes, to an entire hour spent staring at the spaces between their breaths. Those simple and extended pauses fit them so naturally and hit them so in sync that they were perfect in all their imperfection—in their lack of progress they were progressing.

Sometimes it felt as if they were speaking more through the distances than when they actually produced sound. Conversations without words…there was simply something astounding about it. Although, when Joey finally broke through the barrier, as he was so frequently first to do, presenting his surprise with a _"_Ta_hh_-da_hh!"_ Kaiba threw up his hands, "_WOWW!"_

Joey turned his back to the Piano Bar, smiling, "Too soon?"

-.-.-

After another twenty-minutes of convincing Kaiba to come inside, Joey won the executive over with the idea of a running tab. Although the brunette didn't intend on letting Joey foot the bill on this one, he needed the extra time to mentally prepare himself—to quell the initial discomfort triggering resistance.

He couldn't help but be apprehensive. The last time they'd been here was the same night this started; and one of the many that Kaiba had difficulty reliving and an even harder time remembering; not for a lack of detail either, but out of a fear towards it.

Staring at the basement enclosure, he took each step carefully as to not repeat himself. Imagery of scars and scratches surfaced immediately in the dark, somber scene and blue eyes tried to glimpse the places he'd left his mark on Joey's arms. Even the delicate keys of a well-played solo piece couldn't overpower the forgotten corner of the establishment that emitted the blonde's terrified, tantalizing tones and frantic confusion.

Taking a literal moment to pause and swallow, the brunette pushed his heart back into his chest before it outran and abandoned him. Turning forcibly from the haunting atmosphere, it was almost too much to face the contrast across from him; the calm, curious, and carefree boy he'd known longer than he realized.

Bright hazel eyes were watching him, flecks of jade and garnet flickering through subtle swirls of chocolate. As the brunette felt his mouth open and close, he struggled to mirror the unfamiliar frequency, unable to find a way to translate and channel it constructively. In that instance though, his empty stomach lurched, sickened by the scent of cigarettes as he caught the faint crescent shapes along Joey's forearm.

"Do you want a drink?" All six-foot three inches pushed out of the seat so fast that the table shook.

"I thought I said I'm paying?" Joey's eyes widened confused with some seemingly mild offense in his voice.

Usually Kaiba would have lost it, but he turned exasperation into sarcastic, pressured speech instead, "Listen, are _you_ the Birthday Bitch? _No_—so why don't you sit back down and let me buy you a drink."

"Seven and Seven." The blonde's entire body melted back bewilderedly. _Damn_. The word flashbulbed involuntarily throughout his entire sensory; and the masculine undertones matched the one's that sparked this fascination weeks ago. No, years ago. This time it was different though, and Joey found himself re-tracing the back of the brunette's navy blue shirt through the crowd, and over to the bar where he was now standing.

Waiting rather gracefully, if there was ever such a thing; he was moving with such purpose that it was almost hypnotic, but he never broke stride, or stance—as if he just got to float through life flawlessly while the rest of the world tripped headfirst into a wall.

Sighing, Joey shook his head, fumbling to retrieve a Xanax from his jacket pocket before the executive sensed something and looked over. _Just like he always does,_ Joey felt the sphere dissolve bitterly, temporarily abandoning his earlier concern about mixing it with alcohol when he caught site of Seto approaching in his peripheral.

"Seven and Seven," Kaiba slid into his seat, and Joey's drink across the table. "And whiskey for me!"

"Wait!" Frantic fingertips waved at Kaiba to pull back from his drink. "Not yet," the blonde reprimanded, gathering his own glass before readying it.

A devilish eyebrow rose in a dangerous arch, "Should I have brought it in a bowl?" he asked softly, but sarcastically.

The words aren't what fazed Joey though, but he mirrored the expression nonetheless, with both eyes peering from beneath strands of blonde. "Was that a request?"

"Maybe."

Joey scowled this time. "Oh shut it m—" he was about to direct an attack, but traded it for caution, "—Kaiba. C'mon, " his Seven and Seven rose once again. "Birthday shot!"

"Alright, alright," Kaiba smiled, bringing the glass to his lips and joining Joey in a countdown to three. "Ah," he released an airy satisfaction, easing into the space, and savoring the long-loved sensation of whiskey burning throughout him like a space heater.

There was a soft _clink_ and the other boy set his glass down as well, but with no similar expression of enjoyment; and the enthusiasm that wasn't present at the end of the shot caused the executive to speculate nervously.

"Is your drink okay?" He inquired, still burdened by the impulse to start apologizing for that night. "Because if not, I'll go get you a new one."

The offer offset Joey even more than the splash of vodka that was melting his brain in the sweetest way. "No, thank you."

"So proper," the dark liquid hit the back of the brunette's throat as he continued to tease, "looks like the pooch got a pedigree."

However, Joey simply assessed the glass that was making casual back and forth trips, his eyes routinely noting the levels.

"Do you…not like drinking?" Kaiba asked, setting the whiskey down in hopes to refocus Joey's attention back to his face.

"No, I do," the blonde took a second drink, almost as if to validate his claim. "I'm just really careful with it is all."

"Oh, light weight?"

"Do I look very light?" Joey gestured to his average, but stockier build.

Kaiba grinned, "You're pretty small to me."

"Speak for yourself _Skin and Bones."_

But it only provoked a wider grin, and another drink—the alcohol was diffusing with the Adderall to form an invincible tolerance and the insatiable desire for conversation. "You know Wheeler, you're not half bad sometimes."

Joey's eyes narrowed at the backhanded compliment. "And the other times?"

"Well, I want to ring your neck of course!" Kaiba exclaimed, in mock dramatics, swallowing another mouth sized portion.

"And you're really somethin' else, y'know that?"

"Consistently inconsistent," the brunette smiled, perhaps the widest Joey'd ever seen, "That's me."

Genuinely proud of himself for getting such a positive reaction, Joey was about to confess to the other boy that he should _always_ be inconsistent, but his phone sent a double vibration up his leg.

"What's that?" Kaiba peered out of invasive curiosity.

"A cell-phone."

"Oh boy!" the brunette feigned child-like excitement. "Really? Cause I've never seen one of _those _before!"

Joey tried not to smile, "Shut up," he shook his head, shooting a text back while blindly fingering for the glass to his right.

"_Sooo_?" the CEO coaxed on for a more thorough explanation.

"Well, I hope you don't mind," Joey shrank down, innocently into himself, when a curvaceous pair of hips slunk in and around the crowd. "But we're actually meeting someone here."

Kaiba became defensive at the ominous description before his eyes fell hypnotically in a swaying rhythm. "Tall. Red. Two-O'Clock?"

"Yeah," Joey tipped his head, not turning towards Sam right away.

"You sure know how to pick'em Wheeler."

Joey blushed. "It's not—she's not…"

"Not what?" A small hand rested on his shoulder.

The color deepened and his voice dropped, "Nothing."

"I'm Sam," she turned familiarly away from Joey's flustered face and towards the unfamiliar one instead, "And you are…"

"Charmed," Kaiba smiled, crossing his legs and extending his hand.

_Perfect, perfect, perfect,_ Joey grumbled. "So, now that you two have met…"

"Well, I'm not _finished_," Kaiba scoffed at the inconsiderate interruption. "I'm Seto," he redirected charismatically.

Joey's eyes refocused, wounded by the wording. "Se…"

"Yes." The brunette readdressed bossily after realizing. "My name."

Not about to force repetition, Joey trailed off. "Yeah…"

"Awkward turtle?" Sam asked, making a funny motion with both hands.

"I need another drink," Joey sighed, tipping back more than half a glass.

"Damn," Kaiba commented, "So much for being careful."

Sam laughed, "Joey? Careful? Do those two words even belong in the same sentence?"

"I like her," Kaiba nodded, and the grin that grew across his face was irrepressible.

"Well, Joey," Sam propped her arms against her hips even though she was sitting, "You didn't tell me what a _gentleman _heis!"

"Yeah, he's the best," Joey murmured sarcastically under his breath.

The brunette, however, chose to ignore Sam's compliment. "Another Seven and Seven?"

Joey's eyes shot towards Kaiba's gratefully. "Yes, please."

"Coming right up," he pushed back his seat, even though he could've let the waitress come by. "Anything for you?"

Sam grinned, "Sex on the Beach sounds _wonderful."_

"I've heard good things." The CEO winked and suddenly Joey felt misplaced.

"Holy Shit!" She turned towards Joey the second Kaiba was out of range, "Way to leave out that he is beyond _gorgeous._"

The blonde's face twisted, half with envy, and half in thought. "It's really not something I stopped to consider."

"Well maybe you should start," she leaned back, glancing towards the tall, dark silhouette. "Because a little Japan looks like it could go _a long_ way."

"Uhm," Joey stared, his medicine only falling around the simplest version of the concept. "Not entirely sure what you're trying to say…but I _don't_ think I want to know."

"Oh you definitively don't," she grinned.

He shook his head, "Shut up." It was the most constant phrase he'd used that day.

"I'm mostly teasing," she scooted closer. "But he really doesn't seem that bad, and you guys hardly seem like enemies."

"He's just in a good mood today," Joey stated factually, pulling the information straight out of his ass.

"Defensiiiive," Sam sang outwardly, grinning that coy-girly smile.

"Who's defensive?" Demanded Kaiba as he held three drinks in a lopsided tri-force.

The angle of her smile developed more inquisitively as her eyes drank in the situation almost as effortlessly as Kaiba. "Apparently both of you."

"No, no," Kaiba shook his head, "We already had this discussion earlier, Wheeler."

"Don't shoot," Joey raised his hands defenselessly. "I just wanted a drink."

"Well here you go alchy," a glass slid with in a centimeter of his hand, but the comment did some minor damage.

"Don't call me that," Joey spoke in an even tone, taking a sip, and then feeling stupid. "Ever."

The other two seemed to catch the hostile evenness within seconds of each other.

"New subject!" Sam announced.

While Kaiba overlapped her with, "_Anyyyways."_

Joey supposed that should have made him grateful, but their sense of unison threw a curve ball that hit him in the gut and knocked the wind right out of him. Sighing, the drink in his hand grew heavier with each sip, and he was trying hard not to compare himself to his father. If he got drunk and upset, if he fell victim to genetics, it was over, and he couldn't risk the only two friends he had…_well friend and acquaintance_ Joey corrected his optimistically induced lapse in accuracy.

The division between casual and personal threw another dimension of separation between the blonde and his companions. It had been five whole seconds and Sam was already getting a version of Kaiba he'd never seen. It was as if Joey was the only one who wasn't worthy of the upgrade, and his already territorial nature was sprouting little seeds of jealousy.

Watching them both with an immature commentary going through his head, the blonde was unaware that envy and alcohol were increasing in a positive correlation. _Good thing I'm still __**right**__ here,_ Joey folded his arms, trying to figure out what was so great about Kaiba anyways. It shouldn't have bothered him the slightest, but Sam's immediate attraction felt like a conflict of loyalty, and left him feeling isolated and unwilling to speak up…

No one had ever said it in so many words, but Joey always felt like he was constantly compared with the CEO—a comparison that he seldom gained the upper hand in. Although he supposed it was really only himself who juxtaposed them together, but it simply stood to make everything worse. Slowly but surely, the Alprazolam armor sunk beneath the Seven and Seven, and Joey's consciousness swam through the overcast shadows he felt the brunette shrouded him in. The weightlessness became water-logged, and the comfort grew heavy and burdensome under the weight he found himself unwilling and unable to support.

"Jesus, Wheeler shut the fuck up already."

"Seriously Japan," Sam added in sync with the sarcastic rhythm.

Joey stirred the little red straw in his glass, "My bad I was just—"

"Thinking too much?" Kaiba offered with a half smile.

Joey pulled his bottom lip inward with his teeth nodding as they drew Sam's attention around them unintentionally.

"Try this instead," the brunette posed considerately, "Vodka always makes me angry."

"I'm not angry," he tried to insist.

"Because I can see the _big_ smile on your face."

Grumbling in defeat, Joey reached forward, brushing the length of Kaiba's fingers as they overlapped, unfolded, and slid back after a delayed reaction of unfamiliar contact. Swishing the dark, unusual flavor in a circular motion beneath his nose inquiringly, Joey drew in a sharp aroma.

"It's not wine," the other boy proceeded to warn him, "It's never going to smell any sweeter."

"What is it again?" Joey broke focus, unable to retrace his short-term memory.

Kaiba leaned back and replaced the space behind his head with both hands, "Why, my dear friend _Jack Daniels _of course."

"_Jesus—"_ the blonde retracted, "—Christ does that burn."

"Feels good though, right?"

"Yeah, kind of," Joey admitted.

_I guess I didn't fall far from the tree Dad,_ he could hear the bottles crashing all around him, _and it seems we've made a mutual friend on the way down._ Sighing, he surrendered the drink back to Seto, but the brunette refused it.

"Nah, it's alright. Go ahead, you finish it." _You look like you need it way more than I do, _he added sadly in silence.

"Thanks," both hands rose the cup to his lips, trying to count how many times he'd found himself saying it to the CEO lately. From hostile to playful to an alternate universe, they seemed to lose all consistency in such a short period. The realization threatened Kaiba's heart, but threw his brain into constant motion.

"Anytime," his eyes flinched, withdrawing the sentiment under the pretext of forced pleasantries.

That didn't bother Joey though, Kaiba couldn't always compute the circumstances, and he had noticed the subtle pauses and withdrawals withheld some level of communication between them. As persistently as he attempted, Joey knew that he'd never change that overnight.

"Should I leave you two alone?" Sam glanced back and forth from a texting screen. "I'm catching a case of third wheel."

"What's wrong with three?" Joey shrugged, indirectly in avoidance.

"It's a crowd," she replied; the lilac in her eyes swirling mischievously through the smoke drifting from the cigarette Kaiba just lit instead of joining in.

"No," the whiskey redirected the clotting thoughts more fluidly, "It's a party."

Her eyebrows rose just like Mai's always did when he tried to circumvent, "Oh really?"

"He's right." Seto slipped in. "My party actually."

"Oh," the confirmation threw off her expectancy, replacing a lack of words with a long, steady drink to rethink it through.

"It's Kaiba's birthday," Joey filled in the blanks knowingly.

"Aw," she transitioned in half a second from silent to swooning, "And you got nervous, so you invited me a long?"

"What? No—" he stumbled immediately into an incomplete answer.

"Cold feet," Kaiba leaned towards her in an audible whisper.

"No feet!" Joey exclaimed without realizing how stupid it sounded.

"Well that's just silly," he grinned, endlessly amused by the sight of Joey rambling.

"This _conversation_ is silly," the blonde argued, somewhere between flustered and unfocused.

"No _you're_ silly," Sam joined in. "I already told you, you can't lie for shit."

"Or maybe you're just not as perceptive as you thought."

"Doubtful," Kaiba rose to her defense. "She's got you pegged Wheeler."

"Well, thanks for nothing."

The brunette hiccupped. "Don't get mad at me," he was grinning, "It's not my fault you're a shitty liar."

"How is any of this even _relevant_?" Joey exclaimed, covering his face behind his hands and muffling the sound of his voice.

"It's not really," Sam shrugged after a moment of considering, "You're just so easy to frazzle, I can't help it."

"Well, I hope everyone's thoroughly amused," his tone was flat and ill fitting.

"Okay, okay, enough," the executive interrupted, "It's a party remember? So what do you say we get out of here?" he suggested spontaneously, or so it seemed, on the surface level.

"And do what?" Joey asked as Kaiba shrugged

Sam grinned. "I've got an idea."

-.-.-.-.

Walking in the middle, with Sam and Kaiba falling somewhere at his sides, the three of them proceeded through unfamiliar territory as they stumbled out after another round or four of drinks. Guiding the boys along in drunken misdirection, Sam occasionally slanted off to her right or into Joey's shoulder to designate turning points.

After what seemed like forever and no time at all, the next instance Joey was still enough to take in the detail, they were in the center of a deep ravine; trying hopelessly to balance on the arms of a little wooden bridge that connected the uneven protrusions of land beneath them.

"Why is there a bridge here?" Kaiba implored, hiccupping as he stared at the lack of depth between the boards and the ground a few inches below that.

"Oh _y'know_," Joey slurred, "Just decoration."

"It's so dark!" the brunette leaned backward, pointing out the obvious left and right with such blank fascination that Joey decided drunk Kaiba was pretty worth it so far.

"So let's light up," Sam grinned, fiddling with a familiar zipper pouch.

Eyebrows furrowing, Kaiba pulled himself back upright and sniffed the air curiously as if he were tracking. "Oh, yes?" he asked bright-eyed, already taking the object from her hands.

"No _fucking _way," Joey exclaimed as he watched Kaiba hit the bowl Sam packed in total disbelief.

The brunette glanced up from behind the pipe with his eyes back in their sly, cat like slant, knowing full well it was directed towards him. Holding the smoke in expertly, one of Kaiba's hands formed a fist against his lips while the other singled Joey to hold on.

"I can not believe I'm seeing this," Joey's voice rose and fell unevenly with the alcohol, glancing around the darkness as if to seek sound effects from some invisible audience.

Instead Kaiba leaned forward even further and blew the thick, cloud of smoke in Joey's face, "Surprised?" he slurred ever so slightly.

Joey seemed to gravitate outward as well, almost losing his balance as he tried to mimic the way Kaiba held himself in place, "My mind is fucking _blown_ right now."

"What did I tell you? I'm not who you think I am."

"Dun-dun-dun-_dunnn_," Sam chimed in with dramatic sound effects, diffusing the seriousness they could've slipped into so easily in their inebriation.

Joey played dumb. "Y'mean like Clark Kent?"

"Well I _am_ pretty super."

"Super _gay_."

"And _you_ can be Wonder Dog," the brunette continued to hiccup, oblivious that anyone beside himself was speaking.

The lighter rose to the half charred circle of smashed together weed in the face of the bowl, burning out the left over greenery in a deep inhale. "_Or—not—," _he released in non-fluctuating fragments as he held the smoke deep in his lungs.

Sam snatched the bowl from Joey's unproductively motionless fingers, "Just get married already," she laughed.

"Joey didn't invite you to the wedding?" Kaiba asked in such convincing confusion that it took the blonde's intoxicated brain a moment to process the sarcasm.

"_Surprise motherfuckers!" _Joey shouted, missing any sort of punch line by a mile and causing all three of them to burst out laughing.

"Seriously you two," she shook her head, passing along the next pack to Kaiba when she finished. "_You two_," she repeated in emphasis, trying almost as hard as they did to put the rest into words.

"Us two." Kaiba nodded sternly in mock-confirmation, trying not to laugh.

"You two," she gave in with a third repetition.

"Us _what?_" Joey asked impatiently.

"You two," she began again, her chest rising with light-hearted frustration at the lack of formation on her lips, "Are—"

"Take a deep breath," the brunette instructed as he did the same.

"—_so_ gay for each other!" she exclaimed, as the words pushed the smoke right back out of Seto's lungs in a blinding fit of coughing.

"_So happy togetherrrr,"_ Joey broke off in song, his mind latching onto words rather than their implications. "What?" he asked when Sam's face twisted in a _what the fuck…?_ spiral of features, "Gay—happy—musical number—get it?"

"Wait," the brunette caught his breath, "Where did musical numbers come from?"

"From the jukebox over there," Sam kicked one leg out at Joey.

"_Americans_," Kaiba rose one hand parallel to his cheek in order to block Sam's view of his face as he shook his head humorously, gesturing his pointer finger towards her. "They think they know everything."

Her face fell evenly, but under the playful direction of the substances mingling in her blood stream. "_Japanese people,"_ she leaned forward in an obvious echo, "They have no idea what they're talking about."

"Yeah, that's why we make all your shit for you," Kaiba laughed, taking pride in his diversity.

"We're Japanese not Chinese Kaiba."

"Same difference," the brunette muttered as his lips collided with the cigarette balancing crookedly between them.

One of Sam's hands rose to her chest proudly, "He's practically American."

"We _are_ Americans now," Joey broke into the overlooked realization.

Kaiba caught the contemplation as effortlessly as it was released, "Well _technically _at least."

"So random," he reached obliviously outward towards Kaiba's outstretched arm, retrieving the bowl in a mindless motion.

"_So _random," the brunette agreed without needing Joey to expand to know what was going through his head.

"Do you really not see this?" Her eyes broke back and forth between the both of them, "You guys are like _scarily_ in sync."

"Insync?" Joey asked, mishearing the words as the trifecta of substances continued to cloud his memory like a cancerous cell.

"The band?" Kaiba's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Yeah, the 90's boy band," ruby-red eyes offset the purple in her eyes as she rolled them back, blurring, and then bringing them into focus as she shifted realistically along. "No, you morons. I meant you two, as in the both of you, you're in sync with each other."

Both boys stared immediately up at the other with scrunched up smiles and cheeks pulled upward to one side as they framed the inaccuracy in their faces.

"See!" She pointed, "You're doing it _right_ now."

"Me thinks you've smoked enough m'lady," Kaiba turned to her with a side smile and an unnecessarily archaic parlance.

"Well _me_ thinks I haven't smoked _enough_," Joey responded, both hands creeping slowly for the piece resting lazily in the brunette's left hand as if they couldn't see.

"Well _I_ think that this is the twenty first century," her hands repositioned on her hips, "And we shouldn't talk like we're in A Midsummer Night's Dream."

"_Great_ play," Kaiba's fist fell against his open palm in emphasis.

Joey exhaled disbelievingly. "_You_ like Shakespeare?"

"_You_ know who Shakespeare _is_?" the brunette mirrored the dumbstruck expression across from him.

"I'm not _that_ stupid."

Kaiba shrugged, "I never said you were."

Sam sighed, shaking her head to herself, "I'm not even sure why I'm still here."

"_IIII_ know why," Joey chanted, his eyebrows rising and falling mischievously towards the other boy.

"You don't even know where you are right now," she grinned, expertly dodging the banter.

"Sure I do," Joey glanced around at the darkness that extended all around them, "With some pretty cool kids."

"_Hah-hah_."

"What's so funny Kaiba?"

"Just everything," he hiccupped, "that comes out of your mouth."

"You _really_ aren't seeing this shit?" Sam exclaimed, continuously bringing the topic back in conversation.

Joey was kicking his legs back and forth beneath the railing that had begun to make his backside sore, "We've had years of experience."

"Dedicated rivalry," Kaiba shook his head in confirmation.

"_Epic_ rivalry," Joey corrected in the Mr. Movie voice.

"So, you began finishing each others sentences?" she asked blatantly.

"We do not," both of their voices collided within a five second lapse of each other.

She grinned and slipped from her spot, "Me thinks you do."

"Me thinks I'm _pretty_ drunk," Joey fell back into the vernacular as his feet hit the bridge with a thump.

"Me thinks," several arms unfolded over Kaiba's head simultaneously with a deep yawn, "It's time to go home."

As they began their ascent up the mismatched, makeshift staircase of rocks and two by fours, Sam guided them with her cell phone stretched out, constantly stumbling when she stopped to press the button that re-illuminated the screen. More than half way up the side of the ravine, Joey caught his foot beneath an exposed thicket of roots that sent him lunging forward into a domino effect. Kaiba's whole body knocked over with a cut off "_Jesus—_"before he landed face first in dirt.

Several slanted eyes turned backward as she held the phone up to her face, squinting to locate the bodies that were trying to untangle from their little tumble, "Are you guys okay?"

"Define okay," Kaiba asked, lifting his torso in a single movement, and spitting away at the dirt.

"_Mmmm,"_ Joey released an immature whining sound from somewhere seconds below, remaining unmoved.

"What are you doing," the brunette nudged him with his foot as if he were a dead animal.

"_Emb—racing my—fall,"_ Joey said into the ground.

"Get up," Kaiba pulled at one of his arms, "I'm getting embarrassed for you."

Joey yanked himself from the other's grip, pulling himself to a sitting position before standing and brushing away the clumps of mud and leaves. "God only knows what all these trees must be thinking!" He feigned dramatically.

"Sometimes I have no idea where you get this stuff from," Kaiba yawned.

"Me either," the blonde sighed, bracing his new bruises for the remainder of the climb.

Before long they had delivered Sam safely back to her apartment; well, she pretty much delivered herself, but they walked along; well, tripped and stumbled.

"You sure you guys know how to get back?"

"I think we can figure it out," Kaiba turned Joey back in the right direction.

"_Bye!"_ Joey shouted up to her, miscalculating the distance through his disjoining vision.

"_Shhh,"_ the brunette tugged Joey's shirt to shut him up.

"Sorry," Joey whispered too quietly this time, causing Kaiba to roll his eyes as he dragged him along by the sleeve.

The street outstretched before them in a vast tangle of turn lanes and traffic lights that all seemed to look the same to Kaiba. Usually he was more directionally inclined, but throwing weed into the mix had softened the sharp edges of his attention span ever so slightly enough to throw off his sense of awareness, and Joey dragged his feet impatiently behind. With half his body falling forward, the blonde wouldn't stop moaning and groaning about _how much farther, how much farther?_ And the brunette had begun to wonder himself as he tried to remap the street signs in front of them, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar names of trees and presidents that designated where he was going.

"Jackson or Jefferson?" Kaiba yawned.

"Is it my turn _again?_" the blonde exhaled in exhaustion, glancing back and forth, pretending there was anything familiar about the adjacent street corners as he weighed them against each other. "Jackson," he said finally.

"Final answer?"

"Yes, Regis."

"Let's hope you're right," he replied, hiccupping in mid yawn as they continued their would you rather quest between each intersection they passed through.

"Okay," blue eyes squinted and glanced through the dark to catch the reflective surfaces of green and white street signs, "Capitol or Lynwood?" he asked himself aloud before shaking his head and going towards Capitol.

"Wait!" Joey caught up, "Did you say Lynwood?"

"Yeah, why?" the brunette turned back, gaining more energy at the prospect of progress, "_Please_ tell me you know where we are."

"I think," Joey leaned to peer down the empty pavement, "I think we're right by my place."

"Oh thank. fucking. _god_," Kaiba released the well-awaited sigh of relief. "For real though," the brunette warned, "I seriously might kill you if you don't let me spend the night."

Joey's face curdled at the concept of seeing Kaiba try to adjust to such an unfamiliar habitat, and more specifically, to the disheveled state he constantly left his apartment in. "I mean I guess so…"

"Good enough for me," Kaiba made the executive decision before Joey had the chance to raise protest.

"Yeah, you say that now…" Joey rubbed the back of his neck nervously as they began the final, fifteen-minute stretch; both of them so sleep deprived and so worn down from all they'd ingested that neither had taken the time to draw the obvious parallel between how far they'd come since that morning.

They had started the day out separately, and now they were ending it together—when they had met up they'd been nervous and distant, and now they were nervous and attached at the hip, their feet falling in sync from the left to the right, forwards and backwards all the way up to Joey's front door.

Leaning against the frame, eyes half open, and struggling to fit the key into the lock properly; Joey reopened the doorway between the previous distances with a simple yawn. "So, did you have a good birthday?"

"Holy shit it's my birthday!" Kaiba stopped dead in his tracks, having honestly forgotten all about it.

Joey grinned sleepily. "You would forget your own birthday _on_ your birthday."

Strands of chocolate brown shook steadily across his forehead and his head shook disbelievingly from side to side, but unable to hide the small smile that spread across his lips so innocently that Joey thought he'd fallen in love for a second. Not with the brunette, but with the idea he could take Kaiba's mind off something so effortlessly.

"Is that good or bad?" Joey opened the door, unable to determine what the silence the other boy left meant.

"It's…" Kaiba paused, "It's a good thing," the words formed unfamiliarly in the softened, slurring sounds of his breathing. "…I had…I had fun."

The confession jumpstarted the beat in Joey's chest and the alcohol turned him around excitedly, "Really? You mean it?"

"Yeah," a smile formed halfway before more fixed features fell over it, but the persistent personalization in his voice remained unwavering, "You really surprised me today," he rested his eyes, taking a seat at the edge of the air mattress without hesitance this time.

Joey's eyes began to drop downward under the pressure of sleep he'd been fighting off, but his chest started creating riffs in the rhythm of the most pleasant panic attack he'd ever had. Palpitating slightly offbeat, the sharp twisting only excited his central nervous system, and pulled him magnetically towards the source of friction. Towards the warmth that radiated through the cold-drafty apartment they were both about to spend the night in, and sat down gingerly a good foot away.

"Seriously though…I want to say thanks," Kaiba spoke with both eyes closed, although his lack of sleep wasn't the reason; the inability to look at Joey as he said it, however, was; but the words slipped out so easily when he just let the rest disappear. "I wouldn't have usually done this."

"I know." Joey replied softly, averting his eyes as well, unaware that the other's had reopened. "I just wanted to see you happier."

It was one of those simple things Joey always seemed to say that froze Kaiba's jaw just as soon as it opened, and he felt something genuinely painful about how kindly Joey was treating him. Something threatening and long-awaited at the same time; something scarier then his birthday or even bereavement—and that something was how honest Joey could be without trying or even thinking, and how complex it became for him to dissect so much simplicity into anything other than exactly what it was.

"Why?"

"Cause you're not such an asshole," Joey smiled, still retaining the boyishly flushed face left over from the drunk that still clung to his clothes, "and you're almost even kind of nice."

"Well I have more than one setting," Kaiba confirmed with a softened spitefulness in place of his typical force.

"You should try switching to them every once in awhile."

"Cigarette?" Kaiba circumvented.

Joey sighed, "Sure."

"Don't sound so disappointed."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are," his eyes remained closed in distant focus, "I can hear it in your voice. Sam was right, you really are a terrible liar."

"And let me guess," Joey redirected the subject away from himself by reverting to their previous, more slighting interactions. "You're the _best_ at lying."

_Only to myself_, Kaiba sighed.

"Sorry," Joey quickly apologized, mumbling it under his breath more so than in the brunette's direction.

"Don't be."

"Well, I am," he spoke up that time.

Kaiba leaned backward against the bed in a sigh. "I don't understand you."

Joey however had been paying more attention to the wrung around remains of the plastic bag he'd been carrying around all night, and let the brunette keep some of his words unchallenged for once.

Staring up into the backs of his eyelids, Kaiba awaited some sort of simple, confusing clarity to spill from the blonde as it usually did in an unexpected string of ordinary words. Instead he felt an almost weightless surface drop onto his stomach, waiting intriguingly for the executive to finally open his eyes.

His fingers found their way around the sides first, then the rest of him followed by repositioning until he was sitting next to Joey with a package no more than half an inch thick on his lap.

"I suck at wrapping," the blonde rushed nervously now that those eyes had reopened. "But I told you I got you a present…it's nothing fancy or anything."

The concept of receiving anything though was overwhelming and he felt like the Burgermeister when he gets the _yo-yo_ in _Santa Clause is Coming to Town_; at first he didn't understand what he'd been given, and when he did it almost melted his heart how easily he'd forgotten part of himself. Staring down at the two soft cover booklets, the alcohol and the adderal were allowing the prickling in the corners of his eyes to form as his fingers clenched the surface of the simple green and white notebooks like were made of glass. It was so simple it was literally heartbreaking.

"I thought maybe you could use them for when you play piano," Joey explained into his twiddling thumbs as they encircled each other waiting, "I noticed there's one at your apartment too, so I thought you must really like it."

"I love it," he said unhindered, but Joey was unable to match the wavering drops in pitch to the correct emotion in Kaiba's eyes, which were still glued to the covers of the Manuscript Paper.

He couldn't even help it though, and it may have been the alcohol and the exhaustion, but he didn't even care. The notebooks were the right brand and everything; not that Joey had any possible way of knowing that, but they matched all the others he kept bound together beneath the second to last shelf in his closet. He'd had some of them since before he could form concrete memories, and he hadn't bought one since before he'd left Japan; so there was something eerily perfect in Joey's otherwise poor timing, and he realized that he was emerging twenty-three instead of six. The thought alone scared him twice as much as it had before it seemed impossible, but Joey must have pressed something in the right order because time became congruent and he felt the next word as if it were completely foreign.

Joey leaned forward cautiously, "Kaiba?"

The brunette, however, closed his eyes and clenched his fingers so tightly that they lost all circulation, and could no longer feel his mouth lose its hesitance, slipping up for the first time as his split personality fought for representation.

"That's…that's not even really my name you know…"

**-.-.-.**

**:) reviews still appreciated; and review4review is still on the table! **


	14. Drunken Words and Sober Thoughts?

_**Ahh, so this chapter sort of segues form seriousness into lighthearted, unnecessary nonsense, but I couldn't quiet think of anything better to write the next chapter about, lol, and I'm too in love with bending the playful chemistry between them. so. oops :)**_

_**-comment reviews-**_

_**divine. infekt: **ahaha, yesss, because the idea behind Seto smoking was definitely supposed to come off as a total mind fuck moment; but for whatever reason I identify with his character a lot, and feel like he'd be a lot less uptight underneath the surface-haha plus because when people found out I smoked, like kids from school, they were like NO WAY-thinking that i was just this nerdy kid who never said anything. ahhh. but yes, I enjoy this Kaiba too (so much so that it is terribly throwing off my original plot; but like i said, I can't help it anymore lol)_

_**Guest:** well thank you for the review! it always catches me by TOTAL surprise whenever I see another review for this story; however, it always makes me guiltily happy to see that my cliffhangers have, in fact, effected SOMEBODY lol. but i'm glad you're finding this to be out of the ordinary, as i am stringing it a long in quite a drawn out, confusing sort of way-hopefully it continued to intrigue you in all its seemingly directionless progressing lol_

**_*yay, morgan continues to probably dissuade people from liking this story by advertising such awful, unconvincing pitches about it to her readers*_**

**_-.-.-.-_**

**Chapter Fourteen: Drunken Words and Sober Thoughts?**

Joey looked up in a hazy confusion, Seto was never one to disclose anything truly personal; and yet now, in the stillness of his apartment, the youth was silenced into the sweetest, most delicate submission. Falling backward on the pressure of his palms, the blonde watched with his breath held, unable to fathom the words his adversary was beginning to form, and allowed Kaiba's shaky, yet fluid, speech continue with the soft and silent prompting of his attention.

"Before Gozaburo adopted us. Before my…well…when my parents were still alive…" the brunette paused, his eyes trying to clench shut even more tightly, "I was still just—_normal_," he seemed to say sadly for a lack of better words, "and my name…my name was never Kaiba either…" His body shifted, uncertain of whether to move towards or away from it as he cleared his throat, "Before all that…my real name was…my real name _is_," there was a slight tremor, and a soft catch, "…Hashimoto."

"Seto Hashimoto," Joey repeated softly, each syllable felt so fragile, so delicate, and yet so extremely heavy. Suddenly, the strange attraction between Kaiba and Yugi made so much sense—and he couldn't understand why, for the first time in over a month, he'd thought of his friend, but the evidence was there instantly, screaming Joey in the face. _Yugi's last name is __**Motto**_, he thought, it was because of Yugi's _name_…it was a reference point…it was familiar…he could identify with it—_but only so far_…

"I think you wanted to relate to us," Joey connected the dots, "but you had no idea how."

The silence unnerved him, making him think he'd upset the boy, before hearing the brunette sigh in smoothly and exhale in rigid intervals, as if he couldn't keep his voice from catching.

"You're right. I didn't." his eyes cast downward, clearly focusing in and out of his usual cycling of conflicting emotion. "I _still_ don't."

"Still don't." Joey repeated conscientiously. "Or still _wont_?"

"Both?" The other asked, seeking some sort of stable point in Joey's gaze, as if he were unsure the combination were even possible.

For some reason, the question weighed on him with a terrible pressure that began to break down something heavy in his heart. "I can't answer that for you."

Joey had hoped to come off wise or intellectual, but the only thing that Kaiba understood about that sentence was the word _can't_. It was rejection; it was humiliating. "Forget it."

Leaning back suddenly, Joey attempted to lay his palms flat on the bed behind his back in order to stage the authenticity of his reposition, but the alcohol had made his true movements sloppy and transparent. "No."

Kaiba's mouth had been in mid motion when the authoritative response glued it shut, and the brunette had been blindsided into revealing his vulnerability. "Ju-just forget I said anything," blue eyes became dull and downcast, as if not to watch the stutter.

Joey had seen it clear as day though, and it had betrayed every element of Kaiba's confidence. "Then why say it at all?" The question rolled unthinkingly into the air, forcing the brunette to rejoin his vocals with those that continued to draw him out.

Kaiba closed his eyes, however, leaning backward until his shirt rode up, and clenching the Manuscript Paper on top of his chest as if it were about to fly away. "Because I'm really drunk."

"_Liar_." The alcohol was bringing out Joey's old self as the lack of Kaiba's assurance seemed to electrify his own, and there was no conceivable trace of hesitation.

"Well…I'm _drunk_," the executive rephrased, revealing the piece of truth he'd spun the lie from. "Sometimes I say stupid stuff."

"That was personal, not stupid."

Suddenly Kaiba's torso rose forward again, eyes popping open, "_Listen_. I had a really great day today, and I don't want to ruin it." He was sitting more closely than before, shades of blue pleading as he spoke, "Can we please just go to bed instead?"

Joey simply stared at the words in the air.

"I'll sleep on the floor and everything," Kaiba added quickly.

The proximity that lacked in distance between them made the words seem more intimate than they were, and Joey shook his head softly, "No, that's alright, I'll take the floor, you sleep here."

"No, I feel bad," the brunette's voice was unusually soft, almost beckoning. "There's more than enough room."

"For both of us?" Joey asked, wide-eyed, surprised, and flushing. "_Here_?" He asked, pointing down at his mattress.

"Yeah," he shrugged innocently, already crawling over to the corner closest to the wall.

"Isn't that…kind of weird?"

"It's not like I'm not asking you to spoon with me," Kaiba rolled his eyes, but without judgment. "The floor is just uncomfortable, and I'd feel rude."

"Well don't," Joey shook his head rapidly, feeling an incredible rush of nerves due to the other boy's lack there of. "It's fine, you're my guest, I don't mind, I sleep on the floor all the time."

"Wheeler—"

"No really, it's not a big—"

"_Wheeler_," Kaiba repeated over him this time. "_Shut up_ and lay down."

So he did.

"Now go to sleep," Kaiba yawned, pulling the covers back as if they did this every night.

Joey was staring at the ceiling, heart thumping, and limbs too afraid to move from their stationary positions. "Goodnight Kaiba,"—several words he never thought he'd fall asleep to.

"Sleep tight," the other slurred sleepily, turning onto his side, curling the lengths of his legs into an almost fetal position. "And…" then a nervous pause, "…and you don't have to call me that anymore," the brunette spoke quietly, facing the wall with his eyes wide open, "You can call me by my first name if…if you want to."

"Alright." And this time Joey turned to the side as well, with his back to the brunette's, and his stomach in knots. "Goodnight…" he breathed in and out quietly, "_Seto_."

**-.-.-**

**[apologies in advance for this awfully unsentimental scene transition haha]**

**-.-.-**

Of all the asses Joey had ever woken up to, he never thought that this morning it would belong to a six-foot-three male, who he had once hated beyond the ability of words to express; and yet, as his eyes fluttered open in a dull, pained rejection to the light, he stared at the arm against his chest rather calmly. There was a creaky draft drifting through the apartment, but it was so warm where he was laying, curled into a ball on his side, and even warmer where Seto's right hand pressed unintentionally into his shirt.

Twisting and turning respectively as the drugs metabolized and lost their lasting effects, both boys had shifted considerably during the night, their limbs bending and unfolding until their bodies recognized comfortable, less-defensive positions. Joey had somehow gone from facing the room, to facing the sensation of Kaiba's warm, shallow breathing hitting his face in spurts.

The blonde blinked a few times. It was such a rare sight to see Seto so still—so calm and unmoving—that Joey couldn't help but smile, despite the pulsating head pains of a hundred dollar hangover. Breathing in deeply, he could taste the menthol of the brunette's cigarettes mixed in with stale whiskey, and the slightest traces of left over spearmint, and for some reason it was stimulating.

Breathing in and out slowly, as well as irregularly, Kaiba's back and shoulder blades rose and fell, his stomach pressing against the sheets. He'd rolled onto his front side at some point in the night and twisted the covers all around his legs and lower body. Both legs were bent, one at the knee, crossing over the backside of the other, and creating a perfect 'four', which was intertwined with lengths of fabric.

Tracing the knot of blankets up his longlegs, and the unusual site of wrinkled pants, Joey noticed that the comforter had shifted the waistline on Kaiba's slacks down below his hipbones; but only on one side, exposing the shapely protrusion of smooth, pale skin as it melted into the small of his back, revealing the areas where his dress shirt had ridden up when he'd tucked his left arm under his head, and drawn his right to his side in an unfinished fist. However, hazel eyes were pooling into the dimples that butter-flied right below the smooth dip in the brunette's lower body, and then slipped down his side to the curving bone that exposed just the slightest slope of shadowed skin from his hips up to his abdomen.

The sun was filtering through the shades persistently, and Joey noticed how the rays had crept in so quietly and framed the brunette's dark, tousled hair in delicate, dancing beams of light as they fractured with the swaying of the blinds against the draft. It was pushed down in some places, and fanned out in others, giving Joey a perfect view of Seto, who was facing him with his own pressed into the back of his hand. His piercing eyes were closed and his mouth was open, but not obnoxiously wide or anything, just enough to breathe, with his lips parted perfectly, pressing outward just a little, every time he exhaled.

Then there was that left hand again, that left appendage belonging to the bent elbow extended alongside Kaiba's torso—the one curled unknowingly against the space on Joey's chest where his heart was. _He looks so….different_, Joey cocked his head to the side a little, submerging half his cheek into the pillow, while watching the other boy with one eye open and the other closed, _and he's…so close to me…_ The idea was alarming and yet here he was, lying there, completely transfixed and thrown off by the almost angelic presence across from him.

"_Way to leave out that he is beyond __**gorgeous**__," _he could hear Sam repeating, imagining her reaction to all of this if she'd been there; and, as much as he hadn't intended to, he began to wonder if perhaps this _was_ what gorgeous really looked like. If perhaps the silence and the stillness were what were stunning, and that perhaps Kaiba in his simplest form, was actually quite beautiful.

After all, he couldn't rightly find it in his chest to denounce the other as ugly, but at the same time, wasn't completely convinced that made it true that he thought he _wasn't_ ugly. _Why do I even care, _the blonde tried to roll his eyes, but failed because he knew _exactly_ why he was over speculating so much...

…_He told me I can call him by his first name now,_ Joey remembered their closing words from the night before, only drawing his eyes forward even more, as he shifted just a fraction of space closer, feeling the rhythm of Kaiba's breathing regulate his own. _He's never so much as 'allowed' me to __address__ him before, __**period**__ … _and the blonde couldn't deny that a part of him felt special for it now, for the fact he was slowly becoming an exception.

Quickly transforming the room around him in quite a stunning contrast, his head and his heart were both pounding under rapid pressure, but it was somehow pleasant the way Joey could feel each knuckle compressing against him, as the spaces beneath the brunette's fingernails gathered little rolls of fabric from where they'd been periodically burrowing forwards into it. It was almost enough to be a grip—to be holding him— and yet Joey knew better than to believe it was meant to be there; no, it was merely one of the hazards of sharing a bed—people tend to-intertwine and tangle.

Joey also knew he shouldn't be so weird about it, but he didn't know if he wanted to get out of bed yet, didn't know if he'd like what cold, icy things waited for them once they left the sanctity of what'd happened the night before. _For all I know, he'll deny the whole thing_, Joey sighed, knowing it was all too possible, _or what if he doesn't remember? What if he can't figure out why we're even a sharing a bed? _The thought alone was daunting, and dragged him down another notch, _that means I'll have to explain it all to him, which means he's going to get mad probably…_

Joey released another sigh, deciding to close his eyes, still comforted by the presence of another person that he hadn't had, quite like this, in longer than he could remember. Instead he'd spent so many nights alone, sometimes shivering and scared, sometimes wakening up in intervals, and always curling his arms around pillows in search of someone who wouldn't ever be there. This wasn't the same as Mai though…_Kaiba_ still wasn't the same as Mai, _for many, very obvious reasons_, Joey dually noted; however, it couldn't hurt to let the elder sleep in a little longer too. _I bet he never sleeps in,_ Joey grinned softly, watching the face in front of him rising and falling in steady waves of silence. People are always saying you can either sink or swim—why can't you just float?

However, the next time both of them came to—flooded with embarrassment—the blonde remembered quiet expertly that it was because they were constantly drowning. Drowning in the inconsistencies—in the advancing—in themselves—and it rendered both of them speechless for a good fifteen minutes.

"So," Joey breathed out with emphasis, staring straight up at the ceiling before catching Kaiba sideways with his eyes, "should we…talk about… girls…or something…?"

Laying next to him, Kaiba lifted himself enough to lean over, "Shut up," he responded, punching Joey in the arm, before reverting back to his previous position to cover his face disbelievingly.

"Guess you're not used to the _morning after_—huh?" Joey quipped nervously, rubbing the space on his shoulder he could hardly feel. "I always pegged you for the _one night stand_ type."

"Oh really?" the brunette re-met the room with a sarcastic sense of intrigue.

Joey shrugged, adjusting to the feeling of the mattress shifting beneath them as Kaiba turned onto his side. "Well I sure as hell never imagined you as the breakfast-in-bed-kinda-guy."

"Am I the only one slightly disturbed by the fact _these_ are the things you think about me?" Kaiba asked blatantly, as they both strategically tiptoed around the topic of waking up in bed next to one another. "Honestly, Wheeler, your fascination with me is questionable," he grinned now, "_flattering_, but questionable."

"I am not _fascinated_ with you," Joey scoffed, outwardly blushing.

"_Soo_," Kaiba slid a hand underneath his head to prop it up thoughtfully, "Just mildly-obsessed?"

The blonde's entire face scrunched up irritated, pushing himself into a sitting position, "_You're_ the one who wanted me to sleep here so badly," he rushed in a desperate defense, knowing there was little he could say to justify the deepening color in his face. "So maybe _you_ have the questionable attraction."

"Well," another infamously unbeatable grin inched into the side of his face, and Kaiba's eyes slanted upwardly into Joey's, "I never said anything about being _attracted_ to me."

"Neither did I!"

"I don't know," Kaiba's mouth pulled into a speculating side sweep as he shook his head, "You did just try and blame the idea on me," he pointed out skeptically, "so it stands to reckon that you're trying to deny the same thing, does it not?"

Frustrated even further, Joey couldn't find a way around the wording, and his voice fell embarrassedly into almost inaudible tones, "You _know_ what I meant," he glared at the unchanging amusement across from him.

"Of course," the brunette rolled onto his back again, gesturing with his hands as he stared at the ceiling with shifting facial features. "You're clearly trying to avoid this subject, because you are _clearly_ quiet enthralled with me," blue eyes fell teasingly to the side, "and you think you can turn it all back on me, because I told you not to sleep on the floor… Am I leaving anything out?" he asked, as self-assured as the smart ass he couldn't help but act like at the sight of such a playful opening.

"Yeah," Joey nearly burst with humiliation, more red than Kaiba thought it was humanly possible to turn. "The part where you told me to _shut up_ and _lay down,_" he repeated angrily, almost smugly as he awaited Seto's reaction.

Although he simply received them as factually as they were. "So I did," the other boy turned again to smile, "but you're the one who listened."

"Fuck you, Kaiba," Joey scolded, staring him down harshly.

"Relax," the brunette redirected softly, leaning into the eye contact as he almost affectionately flicked the space between the blonde's eyes, "It was just a joke."

"A pretty long running and unnecessary joke," Joey continued unappreciatively under his breath, so god awfully embarrassed at the time he'd spent staring so taken at the brunette, before all this, when he'd still been asleep.

"But a funny joke, nonetheless," Kaiba pulled himself upward, leaning down over the foot of the bed to fumble through a jacket that had been carelessly dropped.

Counterproductively watching the arch and fold of Kaiba's body bending forward, Joey once again retraced the dimples above his backside that gave way to even more skin as the brunette's shirt rode halfway up his body. Although he snapped back into the perfect example of oblivious-disinterest as Kaiba retracted with a cigarette pack in hand.

Extending the nearly empty selection of smokes to Joey, after pulling one out skillfully with his lips, Kaiba leaned into the wall, inspecting the other curiously. "So, are you always so polite when waking up in bed with total strangers?"

The consistently cavalier, yet completely unchaste selection of jokes was making comebacks increasingly hard to find, and Joey grabbed the lighter out of the other's hand before bothering to respond ineffectually as he knew he was bound to. "One, you're not a total stranger," Joey started unconfidently, stalling in the repetitions of his cigarette, "and two, what makes you think I _always_ wake up in situations like this?"

Kaiba leaned forward, maneuvering around the other's body in search of an ashtray. "Isn't it obvious?" he offered, reaching passed Joey's right hand side for a half empty water bottle on the night stand.

"What are you implying?" Joey's eyes narrowed.

"Well, you _have_ seemed to make a new friend rather fast," Kaiba suggested in that painfully obvious tone he always took on, "A _female_ friend," his lips continued to grin suggestively, "and she seemed quiet taken with you, if I remember correctly."

"Sam?" Joey asked with his eyebrows wrinkled, "No way, we're just friends."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure," he sent an irritated eye-roll at the brunette as he took the water bottle out of his hands to ash his menthol into.

"Is _she_ sure?" Kaiba continued, perpetually basking in the guilty pleasure he got out of getting a rise from the blonde.

"Why don't you ask _her_," Joey redirected sarcastically, "Or, oh wait—her _boyfriend_," he concluded the advancing of the argument. "Y'know just because I talk to a girl doesn't automatically mean I'm fucking her," he dismissed in offense, thinking back towards the memory of his father unintentionally.

"But you have, haven't you?" Kaiba prompted, "fucked quiet a few—I mean?"

The color in the blonde's face confusedly fell back into flushing patterns that flashed back and forth between infuriation and shame, "So what if I have?" he demanded, "It's totally irrelevant and none of your business."

"On the contrary," Kaiba dragged his cigarette, "I think I deserve to know if I should go and have myself tested y'know? Don't wanna catch any _cooties_," he employed the word humorously, but Joey continued to explode.

"Tested?" he asked forcefully, "Like you have any room to talk."

"And whatever do you mean?" the brunette asked innocently, although thoroughly amused with his self-knowing smile.

"Oh spare me _Mr. I'm So Rich I Make Panties Hit The Floor_," Joey sneered, shaking his head, dropping the cigarette filter into the water with a hiss, and fingering through the leftover three to grab another. "Don't even try and act like you're so pure and innocent."

"I wasn't aware that money could defy gravity," Kaiba breathed out the smoke thoughtfully.

"Don't change the subject," the blonde reprimanded, almost certain he'd secured the reverse of this ungodly argument once and for all, but unaware how awkwardly it was about to come back at him.

"I'm afraid I had no other choice," blue eyes bore no trickery, and Kaiba simply shrugged, "You see, it's a topic I can't really contribute much to."

"_Ahuh_," Joey nodded, not falling for the modesty, "Because _you_ of all people are so hard up for a date, right? _You_, with all the smooth lines and the sly looks," Joey asked, speculating too sarcastically to notice how in detail he was delving. "With the perfect bone structure and the playboy façade? Yeah, I'm sure you're as celibate as can be," hazel eyes rolled, "_n__ot_."

"Perfect bone structure?" Kaiba implored, with a _tsk-tsking_ and the shake of his head, "You really have put a lot of thought into this—haven't you, Wheeler?"

"It was just a generalization," he shook the comment away with disregard and a lack of conviction.

"Well, I really hate to keep disappointing you," Kaiba peered down into the more than half-empty cigarette pack now too, reaching in for the second to last, "but I really can't, to the best of my ability, say that I've ever truly slept with anyone actually."

"What? Why? Liar," Joey sputtered, saying each word one after the other in a hurried train of outwardly projected logic.

"Well which is it then?" the brunette gestured, prompting the blonde to make up his mind as he continued to draw more and more attention away from last night; despite the fact the conversation was pulling even more intimately into his personal history.

"All three," Joey stuck by his original statement, "_What_—because there's no way I heard you correctly. _Why_—because there is no rational explanation. And _liar_—because you're lying through your teeth right now."

"Well get your ears checked then," the brunette fought the issue with little resistance, framing his face amusedly in the hung-over inconsistency of his confession, "because you heard me right as rain. _Which_ negates the necessity of requiring an explanation," he tacked on systematically, "thus validating my claim truthfully," Kaiba concluded, flawlessly unchallengeable as always.

Suddenly, Joey felt almost self-conscious as he sat in bed next the brunette, realizing that Kaiba really _wasn't_ trying to bullshit him—that he was actually _serious_. And for some reason that made him feel used and just a little desperate as he realized his own number extended well past seven...completely different people. "Well don't I feel like a regular, back-ally Sally," he released a disbelieving breath.

"And you made me feel so terrible for saying so the first time," Kaiba grinned, dodging the swat that shot out unthinkingly at his head, missing and knocking the cherry off his cigarette instead. "Oh, well now look what you've done," the brunette swatted at the smoldering mass, sinking through the sheets in an emboldening set of rings, losing his seriousness to laughter as his lips wavered into a smile, "Popping cherries all over the place," he discouraged, shaking his head, and trying to keep a straight face.

The directness and the parallel of the reference re-froze the blonde however, and the never-ending spectrum of scarlet melted the stillness on his face into scattering movements of unfixed stability. "If that was another one of your demented requests," he began, under unsure confidence, realizing the absence of his medicine for the first time as it drew the reality of the conversation more organically into mind. "Then you can just forget about it," the blonde finished, looking downward immediately and shaking his head to himself as if to reprimand the stupidity.

In a similar approach to the unprovoked atmosphere of conversing under the pretext of sobriety, Kaiba's hand slipped up and over his mouth after a moment of fumbling through his pockets once more, and swallowed dryly. "And what makes you think I'd go for _you?"_ he asked, almost condescendingly beneath the continuously impish advances that were unable to discontinue his control over the ebb and flow of the other.

"Are you _trying_ to make me as uncomfortable as humanly possible, right now?" Joey asked, too red in the face now to conjure comebacks at all, "or are you just secretly enjoying this, _that_ much?"

"Eh," Kaiba tipped his head this way and that as he feigned contemplation, "I guess they go together pretty equally. So, guilty as charged," he allowed, inching forward as he scooted off the bed, collecting his jacket and standing up straight. "Now c'mon, I've got to change into something that doesn't smell like an ashtray," he yawned, leaving Joey in the same, exasperated, incredulity he always did when chasing these boundaries between them, and crossing each one just enough to draw out the tension.

"And I suppose you need me to come along because you can't dress yourself?" Joey asked, both caught up in the increase of adrenaline and anxiety, and nervously exposing his disposition uncomfortably as this whole conversation provoked his thoughts in directions they'd never quiet gone before.

"No, I'm quiet capable," he opened the door, "but you on the other hand—are not," the brunette smiled, provokingly enough to get the other out of bed. "Besides, I wouldn't mind the company."

And for whatever reason, Joey followed.

-.-.-.-

_ Remind me to __**kill**__ Sam, _he thought, half-mad with the morning as it intertwined with the previous night, tying off little knots until the comparison turned into a latter between where her words had begun harmlessly on the ground, and to the unfathomable heights they'd climbed into context. _Why'd she have to say all that about us?_ He over speculated, having been unable to ingest his medicine under Kaiba's observation, and paying the price as he grew nervously out of character. _Because __**of course**__ we'd end up sleeping in the same bed the exact same night she does,_ he rolled his eyes, having almost forgotten the sentimental tones they'd fallen asleep to against the sensually sarcastic subject matter it'd lead to.

Kaiba yawned, lazily dropping his jacket onto the chair while his first initiative had been to begin shuffling around his countertops with the _clanking_ of glass bottles shifting against each other, until he pulled one forward decidedly. "Drink?" he called out to Joey, who was now mindlessly encircling the apartment, running his fingers along the edges of Kaiba's piano.

"At ten in the morning?" Joey questioned, thinking uneasily to the Jack Wheeler-early bird special, "Aren't you still drunk enough from last night?"

"Less drunk," Kaiba sighed, groaning simultaneously, "More hung-over. Absolutely. _Miserable_," he slumped forward, seemingly more distracted by his state of being than he had been back in Joey's room.

"And straight shots of bourbon is supposed to…help this?" the blonde's eyes widened as his head cocked to the side, almost smiling at the hopelessly collapsed posture of the brunette leaning over his countertops, disinterestedly pouring the liquid into a glass that was too tall.

"Of course it is," his eyes slipped sideways, encircling Joey with that _know it all_ narrowing of the eyes, "Everybody knows that."

"Guess I'll take your word for it," he turned away, tempted undeniably at the opportunity to mask himself in something more calming in place of the pills he'd left at home, and out of reach.

Kaiba took the credit as compliance however, and opened his cabinet to retrieve another glass, "So, two?" he asked, although Joey wasn't sure why, when he noticed the brunette had already begun to pour it.

"What the hell," the blonde shrugged, walking forward to embrace the half full container that Kaiba handed him before waving Joey through the doorway on the other side of the room, where he walked into his bedroom to retrieve a change of clothes.

Sipping the drink greedily, excited as it subdued the sharpness in his stomach into softer, dull radiations of discomforting apprehension, it hardly translated to him that he was now standing in Seto's bedroom; but once it did, the usual attention to detail that would have had him analyzing every inch of the space, had fallen fixedly around the possessive noun rather than the room itself. The lingering, left over drunk from yesterday was mixing in quite nicely to contrast the upcoming, new level of intoxication as it took hold of him with little tolerance.

Feeling the alcohol flood into his face and his brain simultaneously, both followed the toxin through his blood stream as it dissolved undecidedly, feeling his words turn to lies in his mouth as he developed _quite_ an undeniable fascination. _Gorgeous, huh?_ He chewed his bottom lip, trying again to wrap his head around the meaning of the word as it transposed with things he'd said like _"perfect bone structure," _and wondering how it was that their conversations could transition so naturally between disconnected extremes.

However, the transition had taken place, as the extremes had connected themselves in a series of mismatched instances leading to the co-existing reality that Joey could not shake from his mind. Sighing skeptically, he drew this strange shift in curiosity around in circles with his looks and glances, and tried to see what it was exactly that Sam had seen so easily.

_He has nice eyes I guess,_ the blonde allowed, even though those eyes had changed his life, but that had never been a source of beauty before. Joey glanced backward, half-drunkenly dissecting the brunette as he undid the top buttons of his shirt. His chestnut hair fell messily around his face in a disheveled swoop that still seemed to frame his face perfectly, and his eyes had grown less blue under the glazed tint and the dilatation, while his shoulders rose up to his ears with a squeaky hiccup. Not bothering with the clothes the executive offered, Joey continued his thorough deconstruction, following the inwards curve between his eyes down to where they met on the bridge of his nose.

"Are you going to get changed" he heard Kaiba ask without ever looking up once from what he was doing. "Or are you just going to keep staring at me?"

Every visible patch of flesh flushed and Joey reached uncoordinatedly for the stack of clothes, carelessly knocking them onto the floor.

The soft impact was cause for Kaiba to disengage his buttons and walk forward, kneeling down, still hiccupping. Joey couldn't help but notice the muscular curvature down the brunette's stomach as his dress shirt hung open by several buttons.

"Take a picture," he pushed himself back to his feet, handing Joey the t-shirt and pants with a grin, "It'll last longer."

Now flushed turned to fuchsia and left the blonde at a loss of words, collecting the pile hastily and setting off for the bathroom.

"First door on the left," the brunette called out, pulling his arms out from his sleeves, and Joey hurried to close and lock the door behind him.

_Not cool,_ his thoughts sputtered instantly, pressing his back against the doorframe, _not cool, not cool, __**so**__ not fucking cool,_ his body bounced up and down agitatedly like a child unable to constrain itself. _Seriously, Joey,_ he addressed himself objectively, _what the hell was that, huh? _ He demanded, instantly realizing how dangerously he was overstepping the personal boundary that they'd formed too recently to bend just yet. _Are you __**trying**__ to lose this bet on purpose? Because you're sure as hell slipping up,_ he shook his head, turning to the sink, and twisting the faucet to ice-cold as he splashed the shock of reality onto his face.

There was a soft knock on the other side after a good ten minutes of indecision had fallen over the blonde's frame and rendered him stagnant, hearing Kaiba speak out softly. "Are you ever coming back out?"

Joey didn't respond though, he was too busy staring at his own reflection, assessing the way the long-sleeved shirt hung too low on his neckline, revealing his collarbone, as he pulled the fabric downward, with his fists curled into the edges of the sleeves. The color was unfamiliar to anything in his wardrobe, and yet he thought the shade of blue was only fitting to be of Kaiba's own. However, just as the shirt had shifted unfamiliarly to his smaller frame, Joey was forced to hold the pair of pants up at the side to keep them from sliding right back off, picking his feet up undecidedly as they pooled in the legs that flooded against the ground.

"You aren't embarrassed…are you?" the tone was catching onto the drifts that weren't as obvious earlier, but the amphetamine salts were seeping into them, and stinging him ever so slightly as he dropped another octave. "…because I was only joking about all that stuff—honest."

Joey sighed, almost more offset by the consideration in the voice than he was by the contradictory things it'd been saying just seconds earlier "No, I'm not embarrassed," he answered, and effectively lied at the same time, pushing forth the door gingerly, "I just look _ridiculous_," he stepped into view, showing off the set of clothes that clearly didn't fit.

Kaiba suppressed his laughter as respectfully as he could, as he glanced up and down at the parachute of an outfit the other was struggling to keep up, "Do you want a belt?" he implored, unable to resist, as his lips formed a suggestive smile, "Or did you not want to keep them on?"

**_-.-.-.-_**

**Yeah, lol it's one of my more inconclusive chapters, but this is all that came out when I sat down to write, hah too exhausted for in-depth analysis.**

**anywho.**

** Read, review, and yeah-you know the rest. **


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